


The Playwright

by Zixzs



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Acting, Adventure, Eccentric Antagonist, F/M, Fluff and Compliments, Friendship/Love, Manipulation, Mystery, Strained Optimism, Suspense, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zixzs/pseuds/Zixzs
Summary: Following the events of the first day, our trio of Delta-warriors come across a bizarre patron of the arts in need of a few actors. Surely they can afford to lend a hand?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Provenance, I

_(I don't own Deltarune)_

* * *

"You really think he'll know where to go?" Susie asked. She followed behind Ralsei, who followed Kris's lead with his usual confidence. The violet grass of the forest waved in a gentle breeze, though it was impossible to tell where that wind was coming from. None of them stopped to ponder. They each strode towards the castle piercing the stark blackness of the Dark World's sky, towering above scarlet leaves like a spear made of stone. Each Delta-warrior eyed it with various degrees of uncertainty.

"I'm positive," Ralsei confidently reassured the monster girl. His pink scarf waved in a similar fashion to the grass, the green of his robes flapping like the kind of foliage Susie was more familiar with. His hat moved similarly, though wasn't in any danger of falling off his head (likely thanks to the horns holding it in place). The Prince spoke with a comforting certainty that managed to pierce even Susie's skepticism. "Though he's a bit… young, Lancer knows more than he thinks. If he doesn't know where the next Fountain is, we could always ask, um, the former king." Ralsei's voice steadily lost its cheeriness throughout the sentence, his pace slowing for a moment. "Though, he may not be willing to… share that information."

Susie huffed, unconsciously adjusting the spiked bracers adorning her wrists. "Could always beat the info outta him," she half-mumbled into the black fabric of her jacket. She shouldered the sheath of her ax for added effect. Ralsei turned to give her a stern look, which was an accomplishment given the usual softness of his features. Susie raised her hands defensively, shaking her head. "Kidding. Mostly."

Ralsei sighed, turning back to face Kris. They didn't contribute much to the conversation. Like usual, they let the metal footfalls of their boots talk for them, the bounce of the sword sheath making a similar noise against their hip. Their torn cape draped across their pauldron dramatically, somehow flowing more than Ralsei's scarf. They did have a flair for drama, Susie guessed. The three of them continued marching in silence for a while, getting closer and closer to the castle.

Two Rudinns stood at the entrance, seemingly arguing about something. They swung their arms theatrically, as if threatening each other. One of them eventually caught Kris's approach and stopped abruptly, assuming an upright stance in the next second. The other seemed confused for a couple seconds before finding the source of their partner's professionalism, mirroring her overly stiff posture. Kris offered a solemn nod as they strode into the dark corridor, followed by Ralsei and Susie. The former of the two gave a wide smile and enthusiastic wave, while the latter jerked her head upwards in a cool form of acknowledgement. The Rudinns recoiled as if Susie meant to headbutt them.

"Should probably hit the throne room," Susie called up to the front of the group, unsure if Kris would want to do their usual thing of exploring everywhere except where they oughta be. Part of her was excited to see Lancer again, and judging by the lack of assault they were met with, the castle was definitely being operated under better terms. Ralsei hummed agreement to Susie's suggestion. Kris glanced behind them, nodding again. There were a few other Rudinns and Hathys milling about, though the most of an obstruction they posed was the occasional flirtatious wave. Ralsei chuckled uncomfortably at the memory.

Thankfully, the elevator wasn't currently in use, and the three heroes stepped inside. A single bulb on the elevator's ceiling illuminated the array of buttons, and like they'd rehearsed it hundreds of times, Kris pressed an armored finger to the corresponding floor without hesitation. Susie assumed her usual stance, leaning coolly against the side of the elevator. The new sheath for her ax made it just a fraction more uncomfortable on her back. Ralsei crossed his legs to sit on the floor, his short tail barely poking out from under his robes. This time, he sat closer to Susie than to Kris. They took their own seat on the cold carpet of the elevator. After an odd lurching, the elevator pulled itself up through the shaft.

Each of them were quiet once again. Ralsei looked around absentmindedly, watching Kris for a few moments. They seemed fixated on the exposed hilt of their sword. Ralsei moved his eyes to Susie a second later. The girl was brushing the red hair around her eyes, either playing with her bangs or trying to adjust them further and failing. Ralsei only smiled at the interaction.

"I noticed you moved your hair, Susie," he broke the silence. Kris moved their head up a fraction of a degree, listening. "It looks very nice."

Susie, evidently not expecting the compliment, froze her fingers, the yellow of her eyes darting towards Ralsei. After a handful of seconds, she carefully moved her hand to cross her arms once again. "Eh," she tried to downplay, much more self-conscious than she wanted to let on. "Just helps me see. No biggie."

Ralsei simply maintained his smile. Susie coughed, then motioned towards him like she was trying to interrogate him. "What about you, though? Did you glue your hat on after last time or what?"

That caught Ralsei off guard. Immediately, his cheeks tinted themselves pink, the boy sinking into his scarf. He'd been hoping that his new friends wouldn't notice, though had to reason that they only glimpsed his true colors for a fraction of the time they'd known each other. "N-no," Ralsei told her, his voice quiet and timid. "I just, um… prefer it like this. If that's alright."

Susie raised an eyebrow (which could be seen with much better clarity than before), but didn't push him further. "It's whatever," she passed off. A smirk grew across her features. "But, if I don't get those cakes soon, I'm gonna start stealing it."

As expected, Ralsei's blush only intensified, the boy growing flustered. "I'm sorry!" he apologized for what must've been the thousandth time. "I wasn't expecting you and Kris to be back so soon! I didn't have the necessary ingredients, a-and…"

Susie broke out into a few good-natured laughs. "Chill," she tried easing him. "I'm kidding."

She thought for a moment. "But I still really want those cakes."

The admittance calmed Ralsei to some degree. A nervous smile broke out on his lips, turning cheery again over the next few seconds. "I promise I'll make the best cakes in the world for you two!"

Susie chuckled again, wearing a smile on her features. Kris almost couldn't recognize it. They looked back and forth between their friends, unfamiliar with their bantering. Maybe Ralsei's overtly friendly nature was starting to rub off on Susie. Something about the thought almost tugged Kris's flat mouth into a smile of their own.

They each returned to silence once again, waiting as the elevator ascended. About a minute passed, then they heard a _*ding*_ resound just above the elevator's door. All three turned their heads to the noise, being met with a number displayed on a small LED screen; "02."

"Wait, what?" Susie questioned, raising an eyebrow. The elevator didn't stop or slow. Ralsei tilted his head, just as confused as his companions. Apparently they'd been lifted only a single floor higher in all that time. Taking the stairs would've been a far faster (and healthier, Ralsei noted) approach. Kris's mouth tightened back into a line, sensing something off. Susie peeled herself from the elevator's wall to walk over to the array of buttons. With a grunt, she pressed the floor corresponding to the Throne Room once again, hoping in some futile effort that would make the elevator function properly.

It did not.

The elevator lurched to an even slower pace, a harsh grinding being heard just above them. Ralsei immediately jumped to a standing position, an anxious dread washing over his features. "Uh," he started. "M-maybe we should press the emergency exit? I have a bad feeling about this…"

An ominous dread settled into Kris's own thoughts, though they didn't show as much. Susie was more annoyed than anything else. Standing themself, Kris surveyed the buttons for some kind of emergency halt like Ralsei had suggested. Fortunately, whatever safety guidelines they had to adhere to back when the castle was first created forced them to install such a button; unfortunately, pressing it didn't do anything. Still the elevator ground itself upwards like an elderly metal snail.

The lightbulb in the elevator flickered for a moment, scaring Ralsei enough for him to take an unconscious step towards Susie. Her eyes darted around, looking for some kind of solution. She didn't want to be in there for any longer than she had to. Then she half-pushed Kris to the side.

"We'll just get off at the next floor," she reasoned, pressing a finger against the small "03" labeled on the panel. Instantly, the elevator halted. Susie wasn't filled with confidence just because that grinding noise stopped. A silence fell over each of them, and they glanced at each other, uncertain. Susie felt something wrap around her hand. Looking towards the furry feeling confirmed that the grasp belonged to Ralsei, who looked exceptionally nervous. Her uncertain gaze pulled some words out of the boy.

"It's-"

Before he could say anything further, the elevator suddenly dropped about a foot, nearly staggering everyone to the ground and accruing a loud swear out of Susie. The lightbulb flickered again, barely able to keep the dimness. Ralsei shot his other hand at Kris's, panic spreading over the boy's features. He'd gotten as far as feeling the metal of their gauntlet before the elevator dropped again. This time, it didn't stop.

Metal screamed against metal as the box accelerated down the elevator shaft, now in free fall. Susie, Ralsei, and Kris felt their feet leave the ground, each with their own exclamations of panic. Ralsei's grasp tightened to the point that Susie wondered if he'd break her fingers. She would've wondered, at least, if she wasn't so instantly terrified of gravity. Sparks echoed with the mechanical screeching of the elevator as it plummeted.

They fell for seconds that lasted hours. The "ground" was far lower than just the first floor, the elevator shooting past "01" like a bullet and quickly descending into the underground depths. The number ticked well through the negatives. Ralsei called some word out into their screeching deathtrap, lost in the cacophony of terror and steel. Eventually, the natural instinct to brace finally reached their heads, and they shut their eyes in anticipation for the worst.

_***SMASH!*** _

Each of their bodies slammed into the floor. Susie felt the wind yanked straight out of her lungs without a shred of concern, and her first thought was that she'd assumed the impact would've killed her, not suffocation. A few seconds of struggling passed as Susie reclaimed the ability to breathe, eventually finding that her lungs weren't splattered with the rest of her body on the interior of the elevator. The next thing she noticed was the continually intense pressure around her hand. Confused, she opened one wary eye, the lightbulb of the elevator still straining out what light it could.

Ralsei gripped tightly to both Susie and Kris, unsure of what the transition to the afterlife would be like. Like Susie, he found it difficult to breathe, feeling like he got hit by the entire mass of a castle all at once. Eventually, though, he realized he was still able to feel. He didn't dare let go of his friends, but he did force his eyelids open to survey the situation. Seeing the integrity of his companions coerced what air he'd regained into a deep sigh.

"Oh, thank goodness that worked!" he exclaimed, nearly crying with relief. Kris's features had their version of extreme surprise, actually frowning instead of their usually blank look. They also didn't expect to be as intact as they were. Susie looked back and forth between Kris and Ralsei, wondering if she ought to take those Sunday sermons more seriously.

"How…how are we, y'know," she questioned incredulously, "not dead?"

Ralsei turned towards her, and she noticed that his hat had been torn free from his head at some point during their horrifying fall. The smile on his face was even easier to see as an effect, as were the sudden bags under his eyes. "After our last adventure," he explained, "I thought it would be best to practice some old spells."

He glanced to the side for a moment, looking regretful. And strangely exhausted, too. "Since… it seems some battles are unavoidable."

Kris stared at him, then looked over themself. Not a scratch. Their free hand patted over their armor, checking the validity of their pulse. Next they reached for their sword, and feeling it still secure at their side, they visibly relaxed. A palpable pride etched itself on Susie's features, which was then followed by a droplet of skepticism. She spoke again, still incredulous, but for a different reason. "So you have a spell that makes us straight-up _invincible_ and you figured we could go on an entire prophecy-quest without it?"

Ralsei let out a nervous chuckle, eventually relaxing his grasp. If he could see the gratefulness of Susie's expression, he didn't explicitly show it. "There's a bit more nuance," he explained. "It's a very powerful spell, yes, but it's not a perfect protection."

Susie thought for a moment, recalling how the wind got knocked out of her like it was nothing. As unscathed as she was, that impact was still felt in its full, painful entirety, and the subtle ache in her lungs didn't let her ignore it. Ralsei annexed another caveat to his explanation. "Also… it's quite…"

He interrupted his own word with a drawn out yawn. Kris had never seen his fangs that closely before. "...taxing."

Susie stared at him, fully realizing how drained Ralsei looked. He only protected them for a few seconds, and that was enough to push him through several days' worth of energy. To Susie, that only impressed her further. Being alive to note as much left her plenty impressed already.

"That's still awesome, Rals," she granted, testing the functionality of her bones to part her hand from Ralsei's and stand up from the elevator's floor. She dusted herself off for a second before reaching a hand back down to Ralsei. He was still smiling from the unexpected compliment. A drowsy hand reached for hers, and he was hoisted to his feet instantly, teetering for a few moments. The Prince nearly collapsed against Susie.

"Thank you, Susie," he told her. "I'm just glad we're all okay." Kris stood to their feet, shaking the lasting daze out of their head as best as they could. Their messy blue hair was more tousled than usual. They glanced around in the dimness of the elevator for a few moments, then saw the smile fade from Susie's features over the next dozen seconds. The girl glanced around, finding Ralsei's hat and picking it up with a definite carefulness. She roughly placed it back over his head with a strange laugh.

"Here," she told him, doing her best to deaden the pride she still felt. She never was the best actress, though. "Can't steal it if ya don't got it in the first place."

After adjusting his hat himself, Ralsei chuckled, then yawned again. Kris stood, trying to make sense of their friends. They both had too many quirks for that to be practical, though, so Kris quickly moved onto assessing the situation instead. The walls of the elevator were crumpled at odd angles, and the collection of buttons weren't going to be functioning any time soon. Kris eyed the door to the elevator, finding it cracked open. Blue light spilled inwards from the sliver of visibility offered by the door. Maybe...

"I got this," Susie abruptly remarked. She pushed past Kris with a subtle rush, dusting her hands together as if she were about to practice deadlifting. Kris, used to the girl's brutish nature, wasn't too offended, and waited expectantly. Ralsei took a few steps to stand next to them, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Susie placed both her hands on one of the metal slates, planting her boots firmly in the carpet of the elevator. With a grunt of exertion, she pushed against the door, forcing it aside with a _*screeeech.*_ The other door followed after, revealing a blue-lit stairway heading further downwards.

Now grinning, Susie turned to give her friends an overdramatized bow. "Ta-da," she said, sounding smug. Kris nodded in approval, stepping towards the blue light and hearing Ralsei behind them.

"Wow," he drew out over a couple lethargic seconds. "You're… very strong, Susie…!"

Susie hummed, shrugging. She'd gotten more compliments in the past dozen or so minutes than she had for most of her life. The fact that they all came from Ralsei wasn't lost on her. "Wasn't much," she mumbled. Turning, she saw the hall Kris was descending into, and subsequently groaned. "Oh, this place sucks."

"What do you… oh." Ralsei moved closer to the doors Susie pushed open, seeing the familiar hallway they'd landed at. An uncomfortable pout pulled Ralsei's features downwards. Truthfully, he had similar feelings about Card Castle's basement, though it was less about the place and more about who resided in it. Who used to reside in it, at least.

Understanding there wasn't anywhere else to go, Susie followed after Kris, unconsciously gripping the belt of her ax's sheath. Ralsei lagged behind a tad. Their collective boots and hooves made a cascade of footfalls on the steps, the latter collection paced much slower than the other two. The pattern continued for a short while, the stairs feeling longer than usual. It was just as unsettling as last time. Dust covered each of the stone platforms as they walked, an uncomfortable thickness in the air. Kris pushed onwards, but Susie found herself stopping for a moment to look back at Ralsei. Seeing the sluggishness of his steps, Susie spoke up.

"Hey, Kris?" she asked, still looking behind her. Ralsei was too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to notice, struggling to even keep his eyes open. "You mind slowing down a bit?"

Kris looked back up the steps, not understanding Susie's intentions. Usually she was the impatient one. Then they saw how little progress Ralsei had made in descending the stairs.

"It's… it's alright, Susie." Ralsei's argument almost fell apart before it even left his mouth. He wasn't one for any sort of dishonesty, but he doubted he was doing a very good job of hiding how exhausted he actually was. If only he just had to stand in place instead of walk anywhere. "I just need… to catch… my breath."

Susie watched him for a couple more moments, her face trying to talk her into frowning. She wasn't having any of it. Instead, Susie reached a hand inside of her jacket, then frowned anyways. Immensely.

"I-I, uh," she began, atypically anxious. Kris raised an eyebrow at her from under their bangs of hair. She spoke with an unfamiliar timidity, like she finally got the courage to fess up for a crime before losing that courage half-way through. She shut her eyes in some sort of preparation. "I was gonna, um, offer some of that dark candy… stuff, but…"

Shakily, Susie lifted the crushed remnants of her offering from her jacket's pocket. It was a mess of sugar and jelly squashed into an unholy paste, flattened from the impact of the elevator. The feeling of it squashed into her clothes was every bit as unpleasant as it sounded, and then some. Kris eyed it with suspicion, thinking that there were worse things than having it prematurely crushed. They would've gladly taken the offer. Evidently, Ralsei agreed, looking towards the clump of candy-resembling mush Susie held to his features with a surprised gratitude.

Smiling, he reached towards the mess. Susie hesitated before letting it half-dribble/half-plop into his hands. She looked more uncomfortable about the exchange than he did. Without missing a beat, Ralsei raised the deceptive-looking food to his face, taking a hearty bite. His grin grew as he chewed, already straightening his back and lifting his tail back up. It nearly wagged. The next few bites were distinctly more energized, and he licked the last of the black-and-red candy from his fingers.

"Mmm," he grunted, sounding satisfied. The noise lifted Susie's spirits out of the doubts that had pushed them down just a moment ago. Not that she was so ready to show as much, but it did make her feel a bit better. "That was very good, Susie. Thank you!"

Susie shrugged, turning back towards Kris with a barely suppressed grin. They had a subtle hint of a smirk on their own features. "Yeah, yeah," the girl called behind her. "Don't thank me yet. I'm expectin' some extra cakes, now."

Ralsei only chuckled, now following with much more confidence than before. He wasn't completely back up to par, but enough that he could reasonably follow Kris's pace. They heard him return Susie's expectations with a strange kind of confidence. "Well, I'm certain I can do something special for you."

Now reinvigorated to their usually tight-knit party, Kris resumed leading their companions down the stairs. Their eyes scanned the walls for any sort of alternate doorway or secret passage hidden in the dark stone. Nothing but dust and the occasional chip in the rocks met their eyes. Susie looked around in a similar fashion, and judging by the disappointed groan, came to a similar conclusion. To contrast that, Ralsei only hummed in disappointment, the subtle aftertaste of Susie's gift helping dampen his frown. Eventually, they each reached the bottom of the stairs. Susie groaned a tad louder than before.

"Damnit," she grumbled. Kris only slowed for a moment, thinking. There was only one other doorway they knew of for certain. As far as how useful that doorway would be, they didn't know, but no other idea came to mind. Their pace sped up to a brisk walk once again. Susie was much more hesitant to follow him now that the floor leveled out, knowing what that implied. Ralsei did too. He kept his doubts to himself, shushed by the ominous sight of the prison gate they approached.

"Don't think this is a good idea, Kris," Susie told them. The usual fear of the place was filtered into an impatient frustration as it passed through Susie's mouth. Kris shook their head for a moment, evidently agreeing to her remark, but continued regardless. If their friends had any better plans, they didn't share them. Kris couldn't have assumed it was for lack of trying. A couple seconds of futile brainstorming later, Ralsei slowed to a halt behind Susie, his eyes falling on the large gate towering in front of them.

"Oh, dear," he let out. His hand latched onto his arm, short claws trying to poke through the fabric of his robe. Kris eyed the door out of some kind of hesitation. Silence reigned over the heroes before Susie got frustrated enough to break it like a twig.

"C'mon, Kris," she tried urging him, her voice still aggravated. "Let's just turn around. Nothing but trouble that way."

Kris looked up to Susie's features. She didn't like the feeling of being inspected, whether or not she could even know where Kris was looking exactly. "In her direction" was bothersome enough, given the circumstances. Their silence seemed to ask what kind of solution she'd found that they had missed. Susie probably interpreted their quiet a tad too harshly, though it felt justified at the moment.

Ralsei took a few cautious steps past her, looking over the door more closely. A subtle crackling of a noise emanated through the wood, though that was likely just the torches from inside being twisted by his paranoia. The last time they visited the castle's basement, its sole resident had been vacated. Ralsei found himself inspecting the etchings of the door with more care than he would've first assumed. It looked different than he recalled. Granted, he'd forced out as many memories about this place as his brain would allow, but surely he would've remembered the intricate inscriptions and indents to some degree. Ralsei raised a fingertip to the worn-away decorations.

The moment his hand came into contact with the door, it pushed itself open with a subtle *creak.* Susie, hearing the noise invade Kris's silence, turned to see Ralsei's surprise. Kris did the same. He turned back towards his companions, assuming his apologetic stance like it was standard protocol.

"I-I didn't mean to," he stuttered, nervous. Susie had the bizarre thought that it was a welcome familiarity in a place like this. Or, it would've been, if Ralsei hadn't just opened the door. He immediately placed his hand around the gate to close it, then paused. Kris watched him in their usual silence.

"…do you hear that?" Ralsei asked, straining his ears. Every second he put off closing that door was a second Susie would've rather wasted doing anything else. Unamused, she took an aggressive step towards him, not caring how misdirected her frustration might've appeared. Her own hand clasped the edge of the door.

"If this is some kinda pay-back for messing with you last time…" Susie warned. Ralsei shook his head.

"I'd never do anything like that," he told her. Though still anxious, he was halted by the noise emanating from inside. "But really. Listen."

Against her better judgement, Susie forced herself to stop and search for any semblance of sound, though she doubted it would want her to shut the door any less. Kris had a similar feeling. They moved up on the door themself, craning their neck as close to the door as they deemed necessary. The subtle crackling of fire was all any of them could hear. Then, just as Susie gripped the wood of the door with both hands, a muffled… something emanated from behind it.

"There," Ralsei pointed out. "See? There's… something." Apparently he couldn't discern it either. All that they knew was that it was muffled, and that it came from inside. Neither detail filled Susie with confidence. She didn't relax her grip on the gate. Before she could shut it anyways, Kris moved in closer. They placed a metal gauntlet on the door, swinging it outwards from Susie's grasp with a complete lack of ceremony.

"K-Kris!?" Susie questioned, startled by their initiative. Kris didn't look behind them as they walked into the darkness of the prison cell. Ralsei stumbled to the side to let them pass, watching them with a persistent apprehension. They simply motioned forwards with their head. It wasn't the most encouraging way to lead their companions onwards. Approaching what very likely could've been danger was both noble and stupid, and the ratio depended on whether Susie or Ralsei had been asked. One glanced at the other, both unsure. Then, Ralsei's optimism pulled his legs from the ground, and he followed Kris into the darkness, effectively pulling Susie through as well. She was far from happy about it.

Despite the subtle crackle of torches they'd heard, the entire cell was pitch-black, save for a single light-source on the other side. The glowing brightness was too distant to make out, or maybe it was too bright. The invisibility of the rest of the room didn't give much indication. Ralsei strode anxiously, his doubts multiplying with each step he took away from the blue firelight they'd been bathed in beforehand. He did trust Kris; that didn't stop the fear invading his mind.

Susie's hands unconsciously clenched themselves into fists as she walked behind Ralsei, her eyes latching themselves to the green of his hat. It was one of the few things she could even see at the moment, and even then, the jade was quickly getting lost in the darkness of the room as they walked towards the light on the other side. She would've cursed at Kris if she wasn't still listening for that noise they'd heard from before. Getting closer, the noise came again, barely any less muffled than last time. Susie wasn't exactly thrilled at getting to hear it any more clearly.

Eventually, when Ralsei's hat had been lost entirely to the room's shadows, Susie opened her mouth. At the same moment, Kris halted. They stood a handful of feet from the brightness, recognizing it as some kind of doorway. It at least had that shape, so it was safe to assume that was the case. Ralsei nearly bumped into Kris, and nearly caused Susie to bump into him. The three of them stared at the yellow glow of the gate for some time. Then, Kris took a deep breath, and lifted their boots from the ground once again. Their form disappeared into the light over the next few seconds.


	2. Provenance, II

_(I don't own Deltarune)_

* * *

Ralsei crossed the threshold not too long after, shielding his eyes at the extreme amount of light trying to blind him. He could vaguely hear Susie's footfalls as she jogged back up to him. With his eyesight momentarily taken from him, he had to assume Susie was much more hesitant than he was to walk into some glowing doorway, which was saying something. Even he had his boundaries. Eventually, he lowered his arm from his glasses, testing the waters with a pained squint. Then his eyes broadened to the size of dinner plates when he saw what lay before him.

"What the hell?" Susie breathed out behind him.

Of all the fears and paranoias that their imaginations could conjure, ranging from torture chambers to underground catacombs to an accurate replication of the basement in Susie's house, an amphitheater was probably the least likely thing to come across. A huge, sprawling space spread out as wide as a baseball field, and just as deep. Rows upon rows of empty chairs gradually led down to a massive stage, bordered on either side by torn red curtains. Balconies of stone were placed at regular intervals above them, bordering the round shape of the room. Now that they were in the light, they could see the copious chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting the room in an orange dimness.

The noise they heard from before came again, sounding vaguely like a voice. It emanated from somewhere above them, and all three Delta-warriors craned their neck upwards to see the decrepit underside of one of the balconies.

"No, no, no," they heard. Startled, Ralsei visibly jumped, which hopefully meant he was too busy to see Susie do the same. Despite coming from nearby, the voice still sounded muffled, like they were talking through a blanket. "I keep telling you, the play isn't ready. Why, the actors aren't even here yet—"

The voice paused. Kris half-consciously took a step back, readying for… something. They didn't know what. Ralsei wanted to call out to them, but an invisible unease held his tongue. Susie was similarly quiet.

"Oh?" the voice said, losing its frustration in favor of a hopeful tone. "Perhaps? Do my senses deceive me?"

Kris waited in silence. They could hear a small "Hup!" of exertion, and a blur of black streaked its way from the balcony to the carpeted steps in front of them, landing without a sound. Susie and Ralsei stumbled backwards a fraction in surprise. Kris didn't move aside from their head robotically tracking the movement. The blur settled into a vaguely humanoid figure after three too many seconds to be natural.

"No, it can't be!" the voice said, coming from behind a porcelain theatre mask. The group of Delta-Warriors took in the stranger with varying degrees of unease. He towered over them, standing at twice Ralsei's height and infinitely thin. His limbs looked held together by skin and bone alone, like insulated wires shoved into a pinstripe suit. A seemingly random assortment of emblems were pieced together at the suit's trim, composed of hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs. Whatever visible complexion he had under his suit was a pale gray more synonymous with the word "unsettling" than any kind of color.

The voice pushed itself through the stranger's mask with eagerness like an excited bowl of pudding. "It's you! The legendary heroes!"

Ralsei blinked. Getting recognized should've filled him with pride, but it felt more like his name was on a "wanted" poster rather than written into some legend. He did his best to give the stranger the benefit of the doubt. "U-um," he stuttered. "Hello!"

"Ah!" the stranger swung his arms around in an arc, clasping his hands together at his cheek. He moved like an overly eccentric puppet. "You're even more adorable in person! You must be Ralsei, correct? The lovely peach of a spellcaster!"

Ralsei's cheeks tinted themselves pink, and he buried himself into his scarf at the flattery. Susie's eyes stayed too glued to the stranger to appreciate the sight, the monster hearing Ralsei's hesitation before he opened his mouth again. "Y-yes, that's me. Thank you!"

The stranger nodded, their mask pulling its smile higher. He leaned forwards just a fraction, but his immense height left him almost directly above the three. Susie's neck nearly ached from the extreme angle required to watch him. Paranoia told her that was something worth doing.

"And you, the unshakeable brute of a warrior!" he said, sounding halfway between a question and a compliment. His hand moved into a righteous fist, as if flexing the nonexistent muscles underneath his suit. "Susie, yes? Such a strong and powerful protector!"

Susie stared at the mask above her, unfamiliar with someone saying her name with a _positive_ connotation. Though, it did sound nice to hear someone call her a protector. That someone being an unsettling stranger deep underground dampened the feeling. "Yeah," she shrugged off, some part of her hesitant to let go of her apprehensions. "Guess so."

After a satisfied nod, the stranger moved the eye-holes of their mask to Kris. His smile seemed to narrow. "And, of course, we can't forget the leader!" There was an odd certainty to his voice. Kris didn't like the subtle edge of it, either. "Kris, the human with the power to ACT on the world and save us from cataclysm!"

A simple nod felt to be the best course of action. The less they let on, the better. Kris let their grip on their sword loosen. They didn't sheathe it, either, especially when they could feel the stranger's gaze try and lock onto their eyes for a couple seconds too long. About a second later, the stranger took a long step backwards, now sounding displeased.

"Ah, but where are my manners?" he questioned. His arms folded themselves into a formal bow, his body leaning forward to the point where Susie expected him to fall over. "I am the playwright of this fine establishment, but you may call me…"

He paused for a small moment, seemingly thinking. Kris held their breath in anticipation.

"The Playwright."

"Wow," Susie mumbled. "Real creative."

The Playwright didn't seem to hear her. He gestured around himself, swinging his stick of an arm at the empty stage behind him. A couple wooden props and painted backgrounds were out, depicting a cartoonish castle. "I do so wish you heroes could have visited under more fortunate circumstances," he lamented, his voice growing weary with every passing word. "You see, I'm in the middle of refining my finest work— a play to stand the tests of time!— but alas, my shoddy actors refuse to even show up for rehearsal! How can an artist paint without any brushes?"

Susie shrugged. She wasn't the artsy kind. Kris didn't move their eyes off of the Playwright, watching his movements. Ralsei hummed, looking behind him instead. The stark blackness of what he assumed to be Jevil's former prison didn't sit well with him, and he turned back forwards in some subconscious effort to deny its existence.

"I'm, um, very sorry to hear that," he told the Playwright, rubbing his neck through the pink of his scarf. "But… how is there a theatre here?"

Susie piped up for him, doubting that his anxious whisper could carry itself all the way to the Playwright's ears. It was a good enough question that she probably would've asked herself anyways. "Yeah, what gives? Last time we were here, all we found was some spinning prison cell with a crazy dude."

The last two words had a subtle enunciation to them. Whatever implication they carried bounced harmlessly off of the Playwright's mask. He lifted his head back in a show of understanding. "Correct," he told them, placing his fingers together. They looked like _actual_ wire compared to his arms. "The former… patron, shall we call him, had far too much prevalence with the King to be ignored. This part of the castle had been turned into a temporary prison, but now that you three legendary heroes have dealt with him—" —he pointed at each of them individually— "—I can reclaim the tribute to the arts hidden within these walls! Oh, it feels so nice to have my lovely theatre back."

Kris kept their expression neutral, mulling over the Playwright's words. Susie did the same, unable to tell if his story added up. On the one hand, she found it hard to believe she'd completely miss an entire theatre built underneath Card Castle. On the other, disobeying spatial laws seemed to be a theme of the Dark World. As if to prove that point, Ralsei nodded.

"Oh, okay!" he granted. If Susie didn't know him as well as she did, she would've assumed he was being sarcastic. "That makes sense."

"Does it…?" Susie mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. Kris turned to offer a shrug, deciding not to question out of either apathy or wariness. Before Susie could disregard either case and push further, the Playwright suddenly jerked his head up, the eyebrows of his mask lifting themselves much higher than a normal face tended to permit.

"Wait, you three are the heroes of legend!" he exclaimed, his muffled voice booming through the amphitheater. It sounded as though he forgot about the compliments he just gave them. "Heroes of the prophecy, heroes of the people! Could you find it in your hearts to help me?"

If finding some lanky stranger in an old theatre was crossing the line, _helping_ him was leaping past it entirely. Susie raised an eyebrow, leering at the Playwright's plea. Sure, he wasn't some unholy nightmare, hellbent on making a game out of murder, but he didn't strike Susie as entirely trustworthy either. Call it an old habit of hers.

"Probably not," she remarked, jerking a thumb behind her. Years of experience bathed her tone in faux authenticity. Plus, working with the technical truth made things even easier, as usual. "We got a fountain to seal, actually. The only reason we're down here is that busted old elevator gave out."

Despite her denial, the Playwright hadn't lost a shred of his enthusiasm. Unfortunately. "Ah, yes, that old thing! I can help you three out of these depths myself!"

Ralsei pursed his lips, his hands unconsciously fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. He wasn't thrilled at the idea of actually engaging with the Playwright, but being given the opportunity to help was his bread and butter. More so if it would help them on their own quest. Curiosity kept him apprehensive for just a fraction longer, and he asked a shy "How so?" already preparing for whatever task they'd be assigned.

"Well, you understand, I'm a bit… shall we say, larger than life?" The Playwright spread his arms out, nearly reaching the adjacent rows of chairs lining the amphitheater. The look on his mask seemed expectant, eyebrows raised in anticipation for some kind of laugh. Kris wasn't impressed. After a painful delay, Ralsei forced out a half-enthused chuckle.

"Thank you, thank you," he granted with a flourish of his hands. Susie groaned too internally for it to not be a little external, but the Playwright didn't seem to care. "I've lacked the flexibility to fit myself into that device you three descended through, so I've been gifted my own personal stairway leading back up the castle's grounds! I'd be more than happy to have it be graced with the presence of you heroes! All I ask is a bit of your time and patience."

Susie scratched the back of her neck, uncertain. Neither time nor patience were chips on the table. Negotiating wasn't Susie's strong suit, though. Kris didn't offer any help, either, only giving an uncertain glance as Susie spoke for them. "I dunno," she pressed, "we're kind of on a tight schedule…"

The Playwright raised his palms defensively. They were covered in bandages. "Trust me, my dear," he returned. "I understand your time is immensely valuable. This shan't take but a moment!"

Susie hummed, eyes pretending to search the glittering chandeliers above. It took a lot to convince her even before she was talking to a stranger that towered over _her_ of all people. "How long is a 'moment,' exactly?"

Ralsei tapped her arm softly, pulling her eyes to him. He looked nervous, but also hopeful. Not the most unusual expression for him. "We _are_ the heroes," he reasoned. A sliver of optimism tried its best to lift his voice out of its quiet anxiety. "Helping him out benefits everyone, Susie. Surely we could afford to lend him a hand?"

To Susie, he looked more like he didn't want to say no to the towering behemoth of a stranger. Ralsei imagined that much was too obvious to even try to hide. Still, he'd be lying if he said he didn't genuinely want to lend their aid to the Playwright, whether or not the context of it all left a poor taste in his mouth. Susie wasn't exactly offended by Ralsei being more scared of that Playwright than her, but it wasn't immediately convenient either.

Kris looked back at the two of them, not giving any input. For once, they didn't seem to make a decision one way or the other. Whatever warning they wanted to contemplate was shushed by the Playwright's attention. The pleading look on Ralsei's features got enough to Susie for her to groan.

"Fine, I guess," she grumbled. Hopefully it'd be quick. "What'd you have in mind, anyways?"

"Oh, splendid!" the Playwright cheered. The white of his mask seemed to glow brighter with his expression. Weirdly, the black void of his eye-holes only seemed darker by contrast. "Thank you so much! My predicament is a simple one. All I require is a few actors to refine my vision; to demonstrate how worthy a place my play deserves in the halls of history!"

"ACTing?" Ralsei asked. Somehow that wasn't what he had in mind when it came to help. Susie raised an eyebrow herself, having expected the request to be some elaborate way to try to kill them (mostly out of experience). Kris's posture lost the edge of it completely. Ralsei spoke for them, a little confused at the request. "You want us to ACT?"

The Playwright shook their head enthusiastically, gesturing again to the stage behind him. "No, no," he denied. "Not ACTing. _Acting."_

Susie found the distinction irritating. "Acting?" she asked, scratching at her freckles.

"Yes, precisely!" the Playwright agreed. His enthusiasm did a complete 180. "Acting!"

Ralsei hummed. The Playwright was sounding more and more eccentric rather than dangerous. His size blurred the line between the two. Kris lifted one gauntlet to their chin, though the mess of hair hiding their eyes made it difficult to interpret what exactly they were contemplating. Susie was too busy regretting their decision to help the Playwright to question them. Of course, that left Ralsei to fill in the silence.

"What do you need us to do?" he asked. The familiar role of helping dissipated what apprehensions still lingered in his voice. The Playwright, visibly thrilled at Ralsei's initiative, grinned brightly. His cheeks lifted away from the porcelain of his mask as he turned to face the stage, one of his arms bending like a broken pole to motion them forwards.

"Quite simple!" he assured them, stretching his feet forwards in what seemed like the most "extra" motion of walking Susie had ever witnessed. Every cynical and skeptical fiber of her muscles told her that following him wasn't what most people would call smart, and yet, Kris stepped forwards anyways. A little credit was given for their obvious hesitation. Ralsei resumed his position following Kris, forcing Susie to follow after him. The Playwright tossed his words behind him like flowers from a basket. "My play is a dramatic retelling of the events of this kingdom. Of the rise and fall of royalty, beset by the cruel deception of the Knight!"

That sounded too familiar to Ralsei. His features dropped into a pout, the boy's memories still fresh in his head. "O-oh," was all he returned with. Susie grunted, hoping that meant she wouldn't have to act much outside of her usually violent self. Those hopes were dashed when the Playwright spoke again, already at the front row of the theater while the rest of them were still striding through the sea of seats.

"Of course, history can be terribly drab," he commented, trying to fit himself into one of the chairs. Then he seemed to remember how impractical his size alone was, speaking again without missing a beat. "So, I've taken a few… creative liberties. Nothing the audience won't adore, I assure you!"

Susie grunted, too caught up in her cynicism to care about the Playwright's writing methods. ACTing, she could tolerate, especially if it meant Ralsei wouldn't get on her case about actually _using_ the sick axe she'd been blessed with (as warranted as his warnings were). Acting, however, was one of those things she thought was reserved for drama nerds and kids with crappy parents.

On second thought, maybe she did fit the bill, though that didn't make her any less grumpy.

Kris reached the stage, the wooden platform just a couple feet taller than their head. They looked towards the sides for some stairs before the Playwright's voice called out to them with a voice like a thickened fog.

"Ah, human, your purpose is especially vital!" they heard. An eyebrow lifted itself up from the cover of their messy hair as they watched the Playwright's hand lift itself high into the air. "You shall serve as the audience! Only two pivotal roles are necessary, and my director's instincts are telling me the other two will fit into their positions perfectly."

Ralsei, taking the clarification as a compliment, smiled. He liked to think of himself as a more literary-inclined person. Acting to him was just telling a story with an extra amount of immersion. Susie mimicked Kris and kept her eyebrow elevated, having a more apprehensive take on being called "perfect" for a role. If her reputation for strength preceded her, then she doubted that would translate to any kind of dramatic ability. The Playwright waved a hand towards them, motioning to the dark backdrop of the stage. "Your costumes are waiting for you behind the stage, heroes!"

 _That_ excited Ralsei. "Costumes?" he asked, sounding as though he was learning about Christmas for the first time in his life. While his eagerness was amplified, Susie only groaned further. Kris eyed both of them for a few moments, then stepped towards the Playwright. They took a seat just outside of his reach, testing the chair for a moment. It looked ready to snap from their weight at any moment, its hinges rusty and cushions torn.

Susie glanced at Ralsei, knowing they were too far in to back out now. Might as well get it over with. The girl looked towards the edges of the stage as Kris had, coming up with nothing. The Playwright probably didn't have the same problem as most realistically proportioned people when it came to getting from point A to point B. Susie pushed past Ralsei as he came to the same conclusion, jumping up to grasp the edge of the stage before pulling herself up. Ralsei, obviously hesitant, did the same with a lot more difficulty. His hooves scrambled against the side of the stage for a couple moments Susie appreciated. She would've helped if the sight wasn't so amusing. Besides, he managed it anyways, tumbling awkwardly onto the stage like a bright green potato. He dusted himself off with as little awkwardness as possible, which wasn't as little as he'd hoped. One last glance at the Playwright was given before he strode towards the edge of the stage, Susie following.

Reaching the far corner, Ralsei placed a hand on the painted wood serving as the stage's backdrop, looking around it curiously. Susie joined him a second later. There wasn't much to grace their eyes, only being met with a boring open space lacking anything interesting. Some props were thrown haphazardly into a corner, next to a few mannequins. They looked weirdly normal, considering the anatomy of most of Card Castle's denizens. The mannequins almost perfectly resembled Kris. If it wasn't for the odd diamond-shaped heads, Susie would've assumed that was the intent. A few white bulbs on the far walls gave a pathetic attempt to illuminate the backstage. Closer to each of them were a distinct pair of mannequins donning some proper clothing.

"I suppose those are our costumes," Ralsei told his companion, stepping around the corner. He moved with a surprising confidence. As much as Susie didn't want to be there, Ralsei's readiness did help, in a sense. Made the situation seem less like a negotiation and more like one of the usual oddities that dotted their adventures. Her subtle scowl leveled out as she watched him take in the outfits, curious. One of the mannequins wore a long green vestment that nearly reached the floor, covering a simple black shirt and pants. There was an elegant black trim around the edge of the clothing. Rather than pink, a deep red scarf was wrapped around the mannequin's neck, the cloth flowing out over the mannequin's shoulder like a small cape not unlike Kris's.

"This must be… mine?" he asked, rubbing a finger over the cloth. Though the rest of the amphitheatre had seemed old to the point of being lost to history, the costume looked strangely new. The fact that it so closely resembled his current outfit was a little unsettling, though the Playwright _did_ mention that his play was at least based in history. He must've been referring to Ralsei when he mentioned royalty. It was easier to be flattered than wary, so Ralsei disrobed the mannequin without much hesitation.

As he worked the clothing off of it, Susie glanced around. Only one other mannequin wore a costume, unfortunately not giving Susie many options. Sighing, she strode towards the figure, looking over what her clothing would be for the next couple of minutes (at the most, she hoped). A pale lavender tunic draped over a long-sleeved undershirt, reaching just above the knees of a red pair of pants. Like Ralsei's, it was too similar to her current clothing for some part of it to not be on purpose. At least the colors weren't as edgy as the black and purple of her jacket; cool as it was, it didn't help her accidentally intimidating stature. Susie unfastened the belt of her ax's sheath, laying the weapon down on the ground. The belt around the tunic's midriff came next.

An uneventful minute passed. While Susie struggled with the pants legs getting caught on the mannequin's foot, Ralsei held his outfit in a neat pile, glancing around for some kind of opaque board or curtain. Then, realizing the lack of obstructions, a tint of pink reached his cheeks. There wasn't much in the ways of privacy. Susie worked on the baggy pants for another couple moments before hearing Ralsei's silence, and she turned to find him hunched over nervously, knees pointed inwards like an anxious schoolboy. Susie raised an eyebrow.

"...what?" she eventually asked. Ralsei's hooves scratched into the harsh wood underfoot for a couple moments. Then he opened his mouth, his voice small even by his standards.

"I-I, um," he began. "...do you see a… dressing room? Or, uh, a curtain, maybe?"

Susie kept her eyes on him for a couple moments before realization hit her, and she looked around furtively. Just some props and mannequins, neither collection big enough to block their vision, because of course they weren't. Susie glanced at him again, trying not to act on the sudden attention Ralsei brought to his bare legs. She feigned a cough, turning back to the mannequin's clothing.

"Just go for it," she tried shrugging off, hoping Ralsei wouldn't notice how much more difficult it was to de-pants the mannequin. "I ain't gonna look."

If she'd forced herself to go back on her word, Susie would've noticed the sudden stone Ralsei's posture turned into. He wasn't _totally_ appalled by the notion, trusting Susie, but…

Ralsei watched his friend for a short while. She tried not to let his obvious gaze get to her. Then, she heard him take a couple steps away, followed by the quiet shuffling of his robes. He turned around for good measure. His hat came off first, being placed gently on the ground before being followed by his scarf. The rest of his clothing took much longer. Ralsei tried everything he could to ignore Susie's proximity, counting the lights on the wall or pondering what his lines were going to be, but none of it offered much of a distraction as he lifted his robes from his body. Not to mention that it'd made the process of changing more difficult, the Prince stumbling a little as he bounced into the pants of his costume a second later.

Focusing on the outfit itself eventually allowed Ralsei to wear it, sliding the vestment over himself. A couple extra precautions were taken to ensure it fit over him adequately, and if he didn't feel so exposed, he might've noted how well the costume actually worked for his size. Once satisfied, Ralsei nodded to himself, then turned back around to face Susie.

His heart halted when he found out she'd taken her own advice. Even his new robes seemed to solidify when his eyes came across the bright purple scales of Susie's back. She was… muscular. The red of her hair fell over a single black bra-strap, messy and flowing at the same time. She was facing away from him, in the process of exchanging her violet shirt for the off-white undershirt the mannequin had worn for her. Ralsei simply stared, his cheeks burning like he cast a spell with his face.

Susie moved with a nervous urgency, then glanced to the side. The corner of her eye was seen for a fraction of a second before she faced back forwards. She proceeded to double take when she saw a distinct pair of green glasses. They stared at each other for a few seconds, both frozen despite the fire across each of their faces.

"... _DUDE!?"_ Susie questioned, facing away from him like her sternum was yanked with a butcher's hook. She hunched over, scrunching the undershirt to her chest as tightly as possible. Immediately, Ralsei whipped around again, half-expecting to break his own neck from the speed.

"S-sorry!" he sputtered out, raising his palms to the sides of his eyes for good measure. Millions of details and thoughts permeated his head, none of which lessening the fluster on his features. "I thought- I'm very sorry, but why didn't you say anything!?"

Susie's shoulders kept themselves raised to her ear holes, risking another glance to make sure Ralsei was facing as far away from her as he could. "Why didn't _you!?"_ Susie exclaimed back, her embarrassment transforming into an outwards rage. "You think I found _me_ some privacy or something!?" She fumbled with the undershirt, scrambling it onto herself in record time. Thank _God_ she changed her pants first. Ralsei sputtered out another couple of apologies, trying to explain himself.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I thought you'd wait for me." His voice was still raised almost an octave higher. Embarrassed didn't even _begin_ to tell the story. Susie's anger wasn't helping. She fumbled further with her tunic, forgetting that she was properly covered by now. Whatever furious form of an explanation she would've shouted back died in her throat, her rage fizzling back into the frustrated fluster that'd originally taken shape. A couple directionless grumblings was all she could manage as she fit the tunic over her shoulders.

"It's…" she started, exasperated. "Whatever." Her eyes looked over herself for a few moments, then she forced herself to turn back around. Ralsei was still cowering away from her, short tail tucked between his legs. His fur was a prominent white, devoid of the shadows his hat usually granted. Susie stared again, this time at the back of his head instead of his eyes. Her gaze moved to the green cap sitting next to him.

Ralsei kept himself petrified for as long as Susie deemed necessary, and was fully ready for that to last the rest of his life. Maybe then he wouldn't have to deal with his embarrassment as directly. Quiet, he waited, then felt a hand roughly push something onto his head. He stumbled forwards from the force. His hands moved to his cap, adjusting the green before that same roughness placed itself on his shoulder, pivoting him back around to face Susie.

"This-" she started, trying to regain that usual anger that filled her tone before. It immediately died again when she saw how simultaneously apologetic and terrified Ralsei's features were. The second half of her force came across as more desperate than commanding as an effect, and she poked a half-hearted finger into Ralsei's chest. "This never happened, got it?"

Ralsei nodded fervently, the brim of his cap moving with the motion. His lips held themselves in a tight line. Susie's eyes moved over his face for a couple seconds, assessing his answer. In truth, she highly doubted that he'd bring something like that up in conversation. He wasn't one to gossip, especially considering how "at fault" he was. Hell, he looked more embarrassed than Susie probably did, and that was saying something.

At any rate, she'd just have to take his word for it. Susie let out a deep sigh as she strode past him towards the corner of the backdrop they'd moved around before. Ralsei didn't immediately follow her, his tongue too twisted by his guilt to function. Some part of him desperately wanted to explain himself, while another was unsure what there even was to explain. Susie's pace didn't allow for another apology to be made either way, and Ralsei jogged to catch up with the girl as she rounded the corner.

Kris sat pensively about six chairs down from the Playwright, their attention focused solely on him. He stood in silence, not talking or boasting about his play to them. His mask was fixated on some point on the horizon. He didn't even seem to be breathing, more frozen than a machine. Despite the muffled shouting heard behind the stage, the Playwright hadn't made the slightest reaction. A pair of movements attracted Kris's eyes back up to the stage. Susie and Ralsei walked onto the platform with a sudden anxiousness that they definitely didn't have beforehand, and something told Kris it had something to do with what they were shouting about. Kris didn't show if they heard exactly what their friends had said.

"Lovely!" the Playwright exclaimed, reanimating like someone hit the "unpause" button on the VCR. He grinned at Ralsei and Susie, leaning forwards again dramatically. Kris thought it was apt. "I see they fit perfectly!"

Susie rubbed the lavender sleeve of her tunic, purposefully avoiding Ralsei's face. He mimicked her effort. His voice came out like more of a nervous squeak than usual. "Uh, y-yes," he replied, hoping to focus on the outfits rather than whatever was underneath them. "They fit… exceptionally well."

Kris didn't comment on the familiarity of the costumes. They noted how Ralsei's hat hadn't been removed. In a way, they were expecting something like that. The Playwright nodded, then cleared his throat, sounding like he was trying to unclog a pipe full of half-diced fruit.

"Now, the scene," he began. His hand rose in the air, a snap being heard before anyone could witness his fingers move to accompany the sound. The chandeliers above grew dimmer a second later. An unseen spotlight suddenly burst into light, forcing Ralsei's arm to lift itself to his eyes with a strained couple of blinks. Susie reacted in a similar fashion. Kris gripped their seat tighter as the Playwright recited from his head, his voice slightly more muffled. "Pay attention, for this is an _integral_ twist; the Knight-" -he pointed a bony finger to Susie- "-has been working with the Prince-" -his finger moved in a perfectly horizontal line to Ralsei- "-to bring forth the Dark Fountain of Card Castle. However, the Prince has grown regretful of their alliance, and sought to oust the Knight without his knowing. The Knight, learning of the Prince's betrayal, coerces him to the top of the Castle before striking him down!"

The Playwright's last statement hung in the air like an unused lynch. Susie glanced back to Ralsei, who was as confused as he was. They looked back to the Playwright in unison. His body looked frozen again, though the features of his mask told them he was waiting for something. Kris wasn't sure where to put their gaze.

"Uh," Susie broke the silence, unsure. Her undershirt felt a tad itchy. "Is there no, like… script or something?"

A few moments passed. Slowly, the Playwright's features lowered themselves into an unamused pout. He took a deep breath of air, then the lips of his mask parted once again. "Pay attention, for this is an _integral_ twist; the Knight has been working with the Prince to bring forth the Dark Fountain of Card Castle. However, the Prince has grown regretful of their alliance, and sought to oust the Knight without his knowing. The Knight, learning of the Prince's betrayal, coerces him to the top of the Castle before striking him down!"

That didn't help. Susie frowned, noting how the Playwright had managed to use the identical inflections of his first explanation while sounding a lot more annoyed. She assumed he was giving her a sarcastic "no" to the whole script thing. An irked groan resounded from her throat before being interrupted by a hum from Ralsei.

"Let's just go with it, Susie," he told her, whispering. Something about the Playwright's echo of an explanation told Ralsei that this was more improvisational than first assumed. As far as how much sense that made his and Susie's purpose of "scene refinement," he didn't want to think too much. Some people were just easy to please. Susie eyed him, mulling over a few thoughts in her head. The spotlight was really bothering her. Eventually, she relented, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Um, okay," she mumbled. She wasn't even sure if she was standing in the correct spot, but if the Playwright didn't want to do his job, then fine. Susie put on her best "acting" facade, realized how subpar it was, then continued anyways. "So, uh…"

She coughed, trying to use the encouragement Ralsei was giving her with his features alone. "I heard you been trying to oust me or something, prince…?"

Waiting for _some_ semblance of direction, Susie glanced at the Playwright. He made an impatient "go on" motion, their hand a black blur. Kris just shrugged, attention shifting to Susie's poor acting. If anyone else saw the sight, they'd know why. Susie resumed her made-up lines with twice as much hesitation. "...prince Ralsei. And now that I, the Knight, know about your betrayal, I'm gonna strike you down. Now."

Ralsei gave her the most sincere smile she'd ever seen, but it only made her feel even more awkward. Damn his encouraging nature. After another lengthy hesitation, she shrugged at him, raising an unenthusiastic fist. He feigned a shocked expression, jolting backwards. The reaction was so realistic Susie already felt a twinge of regret. With a half-hearted grunt, she swung her fist just in front of Ralsei's nose, missing by a gracious inch or two. He spun a half-circle away like Susie hit him with several trains before flailing to the floor as dramatically as possible. It took every ounce of willpower Susie had to avoid bursting out laughing. Kris actually _grinned._

"No, no, no!" the Playwright said. Apparently he didn't find their acting quite as enjoyable, his porcelain eyebrows creasing together. He took a step to the stage, standing in front of its height so his eyes were almost at the same level as Susie's. She was still shorter, though. Ralsei opened one eye from his pose on the floor, getting up as the Playwright lectured the two of them. "I'm looking for _drama,_ for _violence!_ The Knight is _enraged_ at the Prince, ready to end his life! That was too fake!"

Ralsei dusted himself off, a tad embarrassed. Truth be told, he didn't think he was the best actor, but some part of him had hoped for some kind of dramatic aptitude. Susie, more bothered by the Playwright's lack of input leading to his complaining, rolled her eyes. "I dunno," she shrugged, caring less and less about the play with each second the Playwright whined. "Felt pretty real to me."

The Playwright groaned, raising an exasperated hand to their temple. "Susie, dear," he tried, his voice thin. "The Knight _strikes. Down. The Prince._ With violence, with anger! I'll show you."

Susie raised an eyebrow, still too aggravated at being called "dear" to pay any kind of attention. The Playwright took a deep breath of preparation, placing his hands together in a vaguely meditative manner. The eye-holes of his mask closed together. Then, in the next instant, he raised his hand upwards. A blur of black sped towards the stage before colliding with Ralsei, slamming his body into the stage like a meteor with a deafening _***CRACK!***_ that echoed throughout the amphitheatre.

Susie's blood froze. Kris was instantly at their feet, eyes wide under their hair. Like a switch had been flipped, the air felt colder, thicker… deadlier. Susie swiveled her gaze to Ralsei, her legs moving before she could register if they still worked or not. Ralsei coughed on the floor, placing his hands to the ground to steady himself. Thank God, he was still breathing. A paranoid part of Susie assumed that loud cracking sound was _him_. He looked up to her, his glasses bent at an odd angle. Fear shined behind them, poisoning the usually reassuring jade of his eyes. A thin line of red began trailing down from his nose.

That sight alone would've enraged Susie. Boiling, she turned to the Playwright, fists clenching at the bastard's pleased expression. "Alright," she seethed, teeth bared. "Listen here, you _mother-fu—"_

Her words halted when she felt a soft hand reach her arm. She glanced at Ralsei, barely keeping her anger in check long enough to make sense of what he was doing. His mouth whispered to her, pleading quietly. "Please," he told her. If his nosebleed wasn't enough to crack Susie's heart, the desperation of his voice was. It sounded as though he just realized how much danger everyone was in. "We just need to leave."

Kris stood still, not moving until their companions did. The last thing they wanted to do was work against whatever they went with, whether it was FIGHTing or otherwise. They gripped their sword tightly either way. The Playwright kept his eyes forwards, so if Kris did decide to FIGHT, they might've had the advantage for a surprise attack. Hopefully. They heard Susie speak again, her voice thin and level.

"I'm not punching him," was all she said. Every word dripped with a dangerous venom. Ralsei brought a hand to his nose, casting a minor heal and watching the Playwright much more intently. He seemed irritated, assuming a stance like someone asked him for an unearned favor. Sighing, he twirled a hand in the air.

"Fine, fine, we'll compromise." Without the slightest hint of a turn, the Playwright reached an arm to his side, closing the distance to Kris within seconds. Their sword was ripped from their grasp in the next instant, and with a disdainful sigh, the Playwright tossed the weapon onto the stage, barely missing Ralsei. Its cold _*clangs*_ echoed for a few moments, and Susie glanced down at the blade, still barely managing her rage. "Use this," the Playwright told her. "We have a similar enough prop we can use for the real thing."

Hesitant, Susie glanced to Ralsei, who wiped the blood from his face as best as he could. A red smear streaked across the sleeve of his outfit. He gave an encouraging nod, stumbling back up to a standing position. Susie reached towards the sword, its smaller handle disappearing in the violet of her fist.

"Now," she heard, staring at her reflection in the orange metal. "From the top!"

When Susie looked back up, the Playwright was already at their assumed position at the front row. Kris still stood, waiting. Ralsei did his best to stay calm, his body still aching from the Playwright's impact. He didn't want to find out how hard the Playwright could hit when he was _angry._ Shaking, he waited for Susie to begin. She took a tempered sigh, then faced the hidden fury of her expression to him. Even if he knew it wasn't directed at him, the sight was scary in its own right.

"You, Prince," she started, her voice low. If the Playwright wanted anger and violence, then he'd get it. "I trusted you, and this is how you repay me? Betrayal?"

Ralsei had to remember that Susie wasn't really speaking to him. Now that the situation demanded it, she was remarkably convincing, to the point where Ralsei's fear wasn't all that faked. Though, that was partially true already. He listened, doing his best to avoid glancing at the Playwright. "We had a deal. But If you wanna break it, then I'm gonna break you."

Susie prepared herself, lifting the sword with murderous intent. Ralsei blinked, then saw a fraction of motion too subtle to be an accident. Barely, Susie's eyes moved to a distinct point next to Ralsei, around his shoulder. Taking the hint, he gave his own subtle nod, raising his palms as if to talk her down. Susie's eyes narrowed, and she drove the tip of the point through. Ralsei's vestment made a subtle ripping sound as he clasped the blade under his armpit. The force Susie moved with provided him with as much motion as he needed, stumbling backwards in a feigned shock before letting his knees buckle. His body hit the ground with a dull _*thud.*_

Susie kept her scowl on him for a few moments as silence reigned over the amphitheatre once more. That silence was broken by the Playwright's annoyed groan.

"Ugh, _no!_ " he complained, throwing his head back. He sounded like a frustrated child, moving like one too. "You're supposed to _strike him down_! It's a simple concept!"

"Look, asshole," Susie remarked, barking at the Playwright. Ralsei sat up, carefully removing the flat of the blade out from under his arm and holding it gingerly. Susie took it from his grasp, baring her yellow teeth. "I'm not hurting him. Screw you and your stupid play."

With a defiant grunt, she hurled the blade to Kris's feet. It was lifted back up in the next instant. The Playwright groaned, raising the base of his palms to his forehead. He moved with so much speed before that Susie was already stepping in front of Ralsei, raising an arm to her side for added effect. Ralsei gingerly put his hands on the sleeve of her tunic, watching the Playwright. Admittedly, it was difficult to tell how to resolve this without violence, though Susie seemed fully prepared for that scenario. The fact that she left her ax behind the stage didn't bother her. Another sigh passed through the mouth of the Playwright's mask.

"Ah, I see," he said, sounding like he reached some grand epiphany. His voice gained a calmness that only put Kris more on edge. "Perhaps this scene was too grand a role for your fresh acting feet to fill. You two need time to rehearse, correct?"

Ralsei saw his opportunity like fleeting prey. "Y-yes," he instantly agreed, trying to dampen the shake in his voice as much as possible. "Perhaps we could gather ourselves… outside?"

He didn't want to push it and request to be shown the stairs back to the surface. Susie knew herself too much to know that'd be where she went, but then, there was a reason she wasn't much of a negotiator. The Playwright pondered his request for a few moments, humming.

"Hmm… fair enough." He relented, dropping his posture. His voice regained that booming authority he first had when he greeted them. Now, though, it was a lot less endearing and a lot more intimidating. "But, my patience has its limits! As the director, it's important I work closely with my actors."

He leaned in close, forcing Susie (and subsequently Ralsei) to take a step back. "We'll all work out this little misstep… _together."_

A wiry hand was raised into the air, and a snap echoed throughout the amphitheater. Before either could recognize what he'd meant, the ground beneath Susie and Ralsei gave way. A single swear was all Susie could get out before the feeling of free-falling reached her brain, and some part of her instinctively reached for Ralsei. Kris couldn't see if they'd reached each other, their forms disappearing from their vision in a matter of seconds.

Spurned into action, Kris took a leap forward, swinging their sword at the narrow spindle of the Playwright's leg. The blade caught itself half-way through with a _*thock*_ that sounded like they hit a tree. The Playwright barely even reacted, turning towards Kris like he'd found a bug in his food.

"Ah, Kris, Kris, Kris…" he lectured. His mask pulled itself into a saddened smile. Kris stepped back, yanking their sword out with difficulty. Something was wrong, more than just the obvious. Every instinct was telling them not to fight or struggle, as if that was useless. The Playwright shook his head, raising a hand to his cheek. "You know I don't have room for rowdy patrons. Why must you always insist on disrupting the play?"

His words didn't add up. Kris opened their mouth to question what the Playwright meant, then halted when they felt his fingers wrap around them. The appendages stretched like coils of rope, binding Kris's arms against them. Holding onto their sword was all they could manage. They barely even struggled against the grasp. The Playwright lifted them into the air, his mask mechanically locked onto Kris's eyes.

"Give us time to rehearse," he told Kris. "Not all of us are so dramatically inclined, you know." He took a lengthy step towards the open door of the amphitheatre, a pure blackness waiting on the other side. Kris eyed it, some base instinct doing its best to get them to kick and wriggle against the Playwright's grasp. Nothing happened. The blackness grew closer and closer, each of the Playwright's steps silent to the point of being ethereal. Struggling was pointless, and yet they still tried. They called out a name, then another, hoping in vain for that to have any kind of effect, _anything._

But nobody came.


	3. Discord

_(I don't own Deltarune)_

* * *

Kris's armor took the brunt of the impact, hitting the floor with a heavy _*THUD*_. It took a couple seconds for the world to stop spinning. They could hardly register the earth-shaking _*SLAM*_ of the door as it shut behind them, being felt more in Kris's bones than their ears. Darkness encroached on their vision entirely, not even the torches from the entrance reaching where Kris had landed. Their breaths came out short and panicked. Instantly, Kris scrambled themself to a standing position, nearly cutting themselves on their own sword in the process. The adrenaline in their veins told them the Playwright was still too close for comfort, and they waved their weapon in an arc as if to keep him at bay. Nothing connected with the blade.

Something told Kris to calm down. They didn't really want to listen. Cautious, they waited, listening for any sign of the Playwright. A few muffled footfalls could be heard behind Kris, and they turned around, immediately taking a handful of aggressive steps towards the noise. The next noise was loud _*CLANG*_ as Kris's face impacted against the door that they'd been tossed through. A few muffled chuckles could be heard on the other side. Groaning, Kris brought up a metal gauntlet to rub their nose, then listened again. Those footfalls were growing more and more distant. Panic gripped at Kris, and they furtively felt for some kind of handle to yank the doors back open. Bars were found, but proved to be as immobile as stone. No such luck. Pushing against the doors was similarly ineffective.

Suddenly, a loud static filled the room, emanating from unseen speakers. Kris's fist froze half-way through pounding on the door. The Playwright's voice cut through the electronic hissing like a dull knife, about as painful to the senses.

"Ah, human," he lectured, sounding disappointed. There was a deep echo to his words. Confused, Kris put their ear against the door, hearing the last trickling of the Playwright's footsteps leave earshot. His words sounded louder as an effect. "I'd believed you a patron of the arts! Surely someone of your status would enjoy _watching_ the world's finer stories, no?"

Kris froze, their grip on their sword tightening. The corner of their lips twitched. More static followed the Playwright's assumption, as if he was waiting for a response. Kris denied him one almost involuntarily. They heard a lifeless hum more akin to moving furniture than any noise related to conversation.

"Do forgive me," the Playwright pressed. "I'm a bit of a… fan, you see." He sounded atypically remorseful. It didn't garner any sympathy from Kris, who was too busy fighting the urge to slash at the doors in a futile attempt to break through. Their sword would probably break long before any kind of damage could be done to the gate. The Playwright's words heightened their pace, as if urgent. "Your story is so enthralling, so captivating! I've witnessed it so many times. Again and again and again and again and again and again. Such a sad story."

The Playwright paused. There was a distant slamming noise like a falling rock, and he picked up again with a sudden anger. "But then, you've had the luxury of living it! I'm JEALOUS!"

The volume abruptly peaked with the last word like an explosion, forcing Kris's hands to their ears as their sword clattered to the ground. It was all they could manage to keep their knees from buckling. Barely, a few glass _*POPS*_ could be heard in the room's darkness, followed by a twinkling noise. Kris could've sworn their ears were ringing. The Playwright's muffled voice bore through Kris's gauntlets, as if ethereal.

"Ah, but that's just how they lie, isn't it. Why, even now, I'm merely reading from a script, chained to a director's static vision. No more, I say!"

Kris felt their knees turn to jelly. They dropped to the ground, the pounding noise in their head beating louder and louder. Blood rushed through their eardrums, drowning out their deep gasps for air. Their chest ached. Something stirred inside them, too violent to be instincts. It hurt. Kris's elbows fell to the ground, their back curling in agony. Their gauntlets ripped at the side of their head as if to drown out the pain with even more of it.

Then, with as much abruptness as it'd been introduced with, the pain subsided. Kris was still too wary to move, their breathing hoarse as they moved their hands to the ground. A few moments later, the ringing in their ears cleared. Only static filled the room. Hesitant, Kris allowed themselves to stand up. Their eyes searched the darkness for some semblance of a target.

"Come find me," was all Kris heard, each word dripping with vehemence. The Playwright's voice lowered into a threatening tone. "I have a few revisions I'd like to share with you."

After a handful of tense seconds, the static shut off with a noticeable _*click*,_ leaving Kris in silence. They reached towards their sword, pawing at it in the darkness. The sword's grip was found a few moments later. Now more than ever was it a reassuring feeling. A brightness suddenly pierced Kris's gaze, and they lifted an arm to shield their eyes. It took a couple moments to blink through the light and see what exactly had caused it.

Lights on the walls had flashed on one after another, illuminating the prison cell with far more detail than had been offered beforehand. Then Kris noticed it wasn't a prison cell they were standing in. Far from it, in fact. The lingering drops of adrenaline let them take in their surroundings with a hurried pace, already assuming a battle-ready stance.

The first thing their eyes fell upon was the ground. A complicated red-and-green pattern mirroring a stained-glass window was threaded into a carpet of the floor, depicting… something. It was too large to make sense of while standing on it. Most of the wide open space was bordered by a round bar where concessions probably would've been served if the place wasn't decades old. Decrepit stools lined the stone serving as the bar's counter, more than a few either broken or missing entirely. The ceiling far above them was a large dome, dotted with ornate etchings that had long since had their recognizability weathered away. All Kris could make out for certain was the occasional group of hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds.

Kris found a rounded staircase to their right, circling the domed structure of the room to the next floor. Wooden reparations had been shoddily nailed to the stairs, more than a few boards looking far too splintered to be practical. To Kris's left was the distant entrance of the theatre, shut tight. They didn't remember anyone in their party closing the door.

Recalling their friends, Kris shook their head. They were in trouble. That Playwright had told Kris to come find him, but he had just thrown them out into the lobby. Though, the Playwright also didn't seem to be playing with a full deck, in a sense. Kris got the feeling that pondering the words of the insane wouldn't be the best use of their time. The pounding in their chest gradually died down in tandem with their panicked breaths, and they gathered what composure they could.

Kris turned back towards the massive steel gate that was the door to the amphitheater, pressing their head against it. A handful of distant _*clunks*_ could be heard on the other side, like someone threw a fresh pile of logs into a fire pit. The noise was muffled. Surveying the door closer offered little help; the size alone would prove difficult to move, whether or not it was locked. Kris returned their eyes to the lobby with a weathered sigh. Hopefully they could make it to Susie and Ralsei in time. Though they weren't too worried about Susie, seeing Ralsei so unceremoniously pounded into the ground like it was nothing all but reminded Kris how fragile he could be.

Then again, he at least had Susie with him. Kris got the feeling that the Playwright was going to learn exactly how much of a "protector" Susie could be, now that she had someone worth protecting. If their banter in the elevator had been any indication, then Kris almost felt sorry for the Playwright. Not quite, but almost.

Kris decided to take a closer look around the bar, their boots making a few muffled _*crunches*_ from some specks of glass adorning the floor. Curious, they looked at the bulbous lights around the dome of the ceiling, some of them shattered. Those must've been where the _*POP*_ noises had come from when the Playwright pushed the limits of Kris's eardrums. Humming, they turned back to the bar, passing a gauntlet over the dusty stone. Nothing of interest aside from a few cobwebs and empty cups. Strangely, not a single spider could be found. Kris didn't want to wonder why.

Something drew Kris's eyes to the theatre's entrance. Only the handles were devoid of dust, two glimmering gold rods shining proudly. Curious, Kris stepped back around the bar's counter, taking a handful of steps to the doors. Large and ornate, each of them was a dark color, closer to navy blue than any familiar brown. All that Kris could make out was the repeating pattern of card suits at the doors' edges; hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds. Kris's hand pressed against the wood, pushing it open with almost no effort. The blue-lit hallway met their eyes, surprisingly inviting. Most things would be compared to an abandoned theatre housing an insane giant.

**(You could leave them.)**

Shaking their head, Kris gripped the handle tightly, slamming the door back shut. Their friends were in trouble. While not exactly worried about them, they would stick together regardless. Kris had the vague idea that was something friends tended to do. Even then, their only exit was that personal stairway the Playwright had talked about. Finding that ( _after_ finding their friends) was their best chance at escape. With a definitive grunt, Kris turned around, delving back into the theatre.

The Playwright had said to come find him. Kris wasn't exactly eager to play along, but they didn't seem to have much of a choice at the moment. His voice had sounded like it came from some kind of speaker, so Kris's first instinct was to look for an operating room deep in the theatre. Kris then realized that could realistically be anywhere. The second thing they realized was that the Playwright had tossed them out into the lobby only seconds before Kris had heard him. Either he had some kind of transmitting device on him, or he could teleport to the necessary room in the blink of an eye. Kris really hoped he couldn't teleport.

Betting against that theory, Kris looked for some other kind of entrance. The one to the amphitheatre wasn't going to be opening any time soon. Kris didn't know where to begin; they hadn't been to theatres enough times (or _ever_ ) to know what the layout would be, much less how to navigate it. Maybe starting with the back rooms meant for employees and staff was a good start.

Nodding to themself, Kris moved back around the bar again, searching for some kind of door. The carpet underfoot changed to a messy collection of wooden flooring half-eaten by time. A couple old bottles were tossed unceremoniously into the hidden shelves of the bar, most of which either empty or broken. The odd thought to give one of the half-filled containers a try reached their mind before common sense quickly struck it down. Even if they weren't actively trying to reunite their trio of friends, that'd be a bad idea. Kris resumed their search for some kind of door with a shake of their head.

The closest they found was a conspicuous collection of boards and chains piled up at the corner of the bar's counter, seemingly hiding something. Like those boards at the stairs, they looked ready to snap in half at the slightest hint of a pull. It was either this or the locked slab of lead between Kris and the amphitheatre. Kris lifted their sword to the boards, wedging it between the wood and whatever lay behind it like a crowbar. With a grunt of exertion, they pulled, leveraging the board like it was made of paper mache. The other boards were taken off with just as much ease, hitting the ground in quick succession with clouds of dust.

Sure enough, a shoddy rectangle of a door was revealed. Some ripped papers were taped to the door, though the handwriting on those papers was far from legible. Two metal chains draped over the door, forming a uniform "x." There was probably some kind of symbolism in the warning. Unperturbed, Kris raised their sword, and with a confident slash, the chains fell to the ground.

The door's handle made an agonized _*creak*_ as Kris turned it, pushing into the room slowly. It was dead quiet. Whatever decorated the room was hidden by an unnatural darkness, save for the dim gray light spilling in from the lobby. Kris felt for some kind of light switch around the corner of the doorway, eventually finding it.

Nothing happened. Kris held their breath, waiting. Then, the lights overhead blinked into brightness, revealing a dusty kitchen. The only reason Kris could recognize it as a kitchen was due to two things; firstly, while there wasn't any food or even kitchenware visible, the layout and various stations at the room's border reminded Kris of when their brother Asriel had snuck them into the back of the diner in Hometown. The second tell was the mannequin donning a chef's hat at the room's center.

Kris didn't dare move an inch, staring at the wooden replica. It seemed modeled after some vaguely humanoid figure, though its head was distinctly diamond-shaped. It was posed as if cutting something on a board, holding a kitchen knife in its wooden hand. Even from where they stood, Kris could tell the blade was brand new. Someone had placed it there. Recently. Next to the ripped hat on the mannequin's head, the knife looked fresh from the store. Then Kris found themself noting how one metal counter was all that stood between them and the mannequin. A single flimsy barrier.

Careful, Kris inched into the room, eyeing the backdoor on the opposite side. All they had to do was pass through. Part of Kris knew that mannequins were inanimate objects. That wasn't too reassuring when they considered any of the hundreds of instances where the Dark World didn't operate under the same laws as the rest of the universe. Maybe Kris would be lucky and this would be one of those rare cases where things made sense. They stepped cautiously, unconsciously readying their sword. Seconds passed. Soft metal taps clashed against the tile with each step.

Kris yelped suddenly, tripping over a discarded pot lying on the tiles underfoot. They nearly dropped their sword. Even then, they only dared to move their eyes off of the mannequin for a second, stumbling as they regained their footing. Aside from the few _*clangs*_ of metal as boot kicked against kitchenware, the room remained quiet. The mannequin continued being a mannequin, devoid of any murderous intent that the knife in its hand might have given it. Something about the lack of animation should've given Kris confidence. It didn't. They stepped around it all the same, not loosening the grip on their sword.

Eventually, they reached the door. Like before, this gate was also chained up, though it lacked the ineffective wooden boards the first door had. That made little difference as to how secure it was. Kris eyed the chains for a few moments. They could probably slice through those chains as well, though that'd require turning away from the mannequin; something they weren't all that eager to do. Disarming the mannequin felt like a good enough idea that they took a cautious step towards it, eyeing the knife in its hand. A few glances at the ground were given to avoid tripping towards their target, though the floor was clear. Some of the tiles were cracked from past impacts.

**(Now.)**

Instantly, Kris raised their sword, bracing their arm as their eyes locked onto the mannequin. A half-second later, the mannequin burst into life, its head violently ripping itself 90 degrees to the side to face Kris as it launched itself at them. It moved like a dark blur, slicing at Kris in less than a second. The knife in its hand collided with the metal of Kris's sword, harmlessly ricocheting the mannequin's arm backward. If it had a face, it probably would've looked confused. Kris absorbed the impact like a light shove, their mouth tightening into an unamused line. The mannequin tilted its wooden head for a second, its hat nearly sliding off in the process.

With a practiced precision, Kris lunged at the mannequin, slashing at its neck in a flash of steel. The mannequin rose its knife to defend itself, barely catching Kris's sword. Metal ricocheted off of metal once again, this time sending the knife flying out of the mannequin's grasp. The weapon embedded itself in the wooden wall of the kitchen. In the next instant, Kris raised their sword again, barely registering the wooden fist as it sped towards their head. They moved aside without a second thought, having to adjust their slice into a lower angle to move accordingly. Wooden chips rained to the floor as Kris's sword lodged itself into where the mannequin's collarbone would be. Unperturbed, the mannequin swung at Kris again, passing through the air their torso occupied a second ago. Kris struggled to get their sword out of the mannequin for a few seconds before taking a step away to avoid another blow.

The mannequin didn't slow down, only taking a second to adjust its hat before swinging at Kris once again. Now without their weapon, Kris moved defensively, ducking around the mannequin's attack like it was nothing. Every swing and punch the mannequin tried to land was dodged without a second thought, like Kris could see the intent in advance. After the fourth ineffective punch, the mannequin reached to the weapon stuck near its neck, yanking it out and slashing wildly at Kris. Again, the blade harmlessly clipped the air Kris had been in a second ago. Kris's fingers curled into a tight fist, and they launched a punch of their own into the mannequin's chest. A wooden divot bore into the mannequin's body as Kris's gauntlet struck against the mannequin, disorienting it enough for Kris's other hand to reach toward their sword.

With a small flourish, Kris ripped the handle out of the wooden grasp, spinning the weapon to orient it. A second later, Kris's other hand wrapped around the handle, and they raised the sword like a baseball bat. The mannequin was given only a brief moment to hesitate before Kris launched their sword into a viscous arc, slicing through the mannequin's neck like a chainsaw through a sapling. A diamond-shaped mass launched from the mannequin's body as it suddenly went slack, soaring in an arc complimenting its hat before hitting the tiles with a dull _*thunk*_. The cascade of the rest of the mannequin's body followed a second later.

Kris stood frozen again, still in a battle-ready stance. The last echoes of the mannequin's body resonated through the kitchen for a few moments. Eventually, Kris realized the fight was over, loosening the tension of their arms with a sigh. They looked over the stillness of the mannequin. The rush of the skirmish had parted their messy hair, revealing the red of Kris's eyes as they surveyed the once-animated mass of wood. Something drew Kris's eyes to the side, and they lifted their head towards the glint of light near the edge of the room.

Kris looked at the kitchen knife embedded in the wall for some time. They only realized they were walking towards it well after doing so, stepping over the mannequin without a passing thought. They leaned over the counter the knife had lodged itself above, seeing the mirror-like effect of the blade. Kris stared into their own eyes, finding the gaze… uncomfortable. Almost unfamiliar.

Curious, Kris raised a hand to the knife, gripping its handle and dislodging it from the wall effortlessly. They turned the weapon over a few times, each rotation catching some of the ceiling lights. It didn't look like the knife had ever been used. Instinct told Kris the weapon was sturdy enough to be worried about some mad mannequin wielding it against them. Holding the blade themself, Kris still felt worried about it. There was a dangerous air to the knife, somehow more than Kris's own sword. Surely an _actual weapon_ was more lethal than some kitchen knife.

A few seconds passed. Like a defunct machine, Kris moved their eyes to the sheath of their sword. The belt was still secure against their hip. The leather that belt was composed of had a strong thickness to it, about half an inch's worth of solid material. Carefully, Kris lowered the knife to their belt, pressing the tip of the blade against the leather's flat edge. The knife passed through like it was made of warm butter. Kris moved their legs around to test the make-shift sheath, finding that they were safe from any potential pokes the blade might've given them.

That would do. Kris tousled their hair back into its usually obstructing place, then glanced back at the door. Those chains hadn't gone anywhere. Kris gripped their sword tighter, raising it again as they strode towards the gate. One confident slash later, those chains clattered to the floor. Kris pushed against the door's handle with ease. Then the door stopped moving, getting stuck on something.

Kris pushed against the door again. It didn't budge. Only a handful of degrees had been gained, offering a narrow crack into whatever room was past the kitchen. Kris placed their fingers into the crack of the door's frame, planting their boots on the tiles and shoving against the door with all their might. Still it didn't move in the slightest. Frustrated, Kris moved up against the door, the smell of moldy wood invading their nostrils as they eyed the sliver of vision offered. They could see some kind of hallway on the other side, lit dimly by a few bulbous lights like the ones that had been in the lobby.

Then, a porcelain mask materialized in front of Kris's face, grinning widely.

Startled, Kris immediately stumbled away from the door. It slammed shut in the next instant, followed by a few muffled chuckles. They sounded distorted, like the voice was filtered through three layers of phone-calls.

"What are you doing back _here,_ Kris?" the Playwright asked from the other side of the door. Their voice gradually quieted like they were walking away. "This area is for _employees only._ Fellow directors should meet upstairs, above the lobby. Hint, hint."

Kris blinked as the Playwright's footsteps quieted to silence, their heart racing again. They'd fought off the mannequin without the slightest hint of hesitation, and yet being within a five-foot radius of the Playwright set off Kris's instincts to panic like they'd waded into pride of lions wearing nothing but meat. Seconds passed as they contemplated whether or not the Playwright was actually gone. It was impossible to tell. Eventually, they gathered enough courage to take a step back towards the door, reaching towards the handle once again. Now the door didn't move at all, apparently locked. Some part of Kris counted that as a good thing.

There didn't seem to be much else keeping them in the kitchen. Now cautious, Kris stepped back towards the door they'd first come through, glancing back at the decapitated mannequin on the way. Then they froze when they saw the body was gone. _Only_ the body. The head still sat there like a wooden brick among the chef's hat and a couple of wood chips Kris had ripped free with their first swing. Other than that, just the pale white tiling of the kitchen's floor met Kris's gaze. Suddenly they were a lot less eager to return to the theatre's lobby. Still, there weren't many other places else to go. Banging down the kitchen's back door was just asking for trouble, specifically the kind that they didn't have the confidence to deal with.

Kris adjusted the grip on their sword before opening the door back out into the lobby, seeing it unchanged. No mannequins with knives or insane theatre owners could be found. Thankfully. Kris released the breath they held, shutting the door tightly behind them as they walked back through the bar. The knife at their hip didn't brush dangerously against their leg, but the cold steel of it was felt all the same. Ignoring it was about as feasible as ignoring a wasp on Kris's hand.

They took a brief glance at the decrepit stairs they'd surveyed before, noticing exactly how worse for wear they were. There were more wooden boards serving as makeshift ramps than there were actual steps. The boards themselves hardly looked secure enough to take the weight of a mere bird, most of them placed over the rocky remains and debris of steps that had long since crumbled to the floor of the lobby. And yet, Kris found themself at the base of the stairs a second later. They hesitated, looking for some semblance of a secure path upwards.

**(Go.)**

Kris raised a careful boot to the stone stairs. While the first couple of steps were secure enough, rooted into the lobby's floor, it didn't take long for the worn and cracked stairs to dominate most of the path upwards. Some of the wooden boards looked like a better path. But… not all of them. Going with their gut, Kris planted their next step on the board's incline, easing onto it slowly. It creaked under their weight, though didn't buckle. Kris moved just a sliver faster, their pace quickened by an unfamiliar confidence. About three steps later, they slowed, surveying the steps again. The stairs were wide enough as a whole that they had multiple options. None of them were all that inviting.

Carefully, they eased onto the shallower ramp of wood, laid semi-horizontally across some of the steps. That seemed like the correct choice to take. Slowly but surely, Kris made their way up the stairs. The daunting nature of something so arguably simple wasn't lost on them. While looking over their path, Kris noticed an odd gray sticking out from between some of the boards. It wasn't the same dull and rough stone that most of the stairs were composed of; instead, this gray had a metallic sort of texture to it. Still rough, but definitely not rock. Kris reached towards the object carefully, making sure to balance as best as they could as they grasped the object in their gauntlet. Pulling it in front of their eyes only made them more confused.

It was a tape recorder. Like the rest of the theatre, it looked old and worn down from decades of use. There was a generous amount of duct tape around most of it, as well as an odd collection of string. A tape was still inside of it. Judging by the button currently pressed down, whatever message it played was already finished. Kris pressed the small "rewind" button, watching as the tape mechanically wound itself back to the beginning. A couple seconds passed. Then, hearing the "click" of the device, Kris pressed play again.

"Ah, human," Kris heard. It was the Playwright's voice, cut into with a familiar static. "I'd believed you a patron of the arts! Surely someone of your status would enjoy _watching_ the world's finer stories, no?"

Kris stared at the recorder. It wound itself in a noisy silence, seemingly waiting. The Playwright's voice echoed from it after a hefty delay.

"Do forgive me. I'm a bit of a… fan, you see." Kris didn't move a muscle, the gears of their mind grinding together as the Playwright's voice repeated itself. "Your story is so enthralling, so captivating! I've witnessed it so many times. Again and again and again and again and again and again. Such a sad story."

Knowing what came next, Kris abruptly stopped the recording. They held the tape recorder for a few moments, thinking. That must've been how the Playwright had talked to them beforehand; he recorded his message in advance. As far as how he knew what to say when, Kris wasn't sure. His voice sounded so convincingly present when Kris had heard it the first time. He _was_ a playwright, though; maybe he was a better actor than he let on. Kris didn't like the idea of him being insane _and_ competent.

Cautious, Kris put the recording back into its original spot, trying not to think about how conspicuous that spot was. It was as if the Playwright had _wanted_ them to find it. They continued working their way up the stairs, glancing at the lobby from their elevated position. From above, it was far easier to make sense of the pattern etched onto the carpet. A hooded figure cloaked in green was laid out on the center of the floor's design, their face hidden by darkness. There was an odd sloppiness that made most of the finer features difficult to interpret. The only other thing Kris could make out for certain was the weapon embedded right in the center of the figure's chest; an ax. A distinctly familiar ax, at that.

Shaking their head, Kris pressed on upwards.


	4. Hell

_(I don't own Deltarune)_

* * *

" _Shit!"_ was the first thought that came to Susie's mind. Immediately after she could recognize the loose feeling in the pit of her stomach, the wood under her boots gave way, and gravity took hold. Panicked, she reached towards Ralsei, who made a mad grab towards her in a similar fashion. Some semblance of contact was felt before Susie's view of the amphitheater was replaced with a stark blackness, both monster and Prince falling through the stage like a pair of coins.

Unlike their descent in the elevator, Susie felt the harsh impact of the ground only a second later. Her back had collided first, followed by a painful _*BANG*_ as the back of her head followed after. Subsequently, Susie swore again, letting go of the ambiguous grasp she had with Ralsei to rub the bruise. Ralsei's similar grunts told her he'd landed with about as much grace. He groaned in the darkness, rubbing his own newly formed bruises. A rickety-sounding clasp shut above them, cutting off the pathetic dimness that the amphitheater might've been able to offer.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard," was the second thought that came to Susie's mind. This one had the added bonus of being vocal, thrown out with a ferocious snarl. "He's fucking dead." She shook her head, unable to see much in the darkness of… wherever they were. Considering the short fall and where they were standing just a second ago, they must've been inside the platform of the stage. The area seemed large enough from the outside. However big the inside might've been was hidden by a suffocating blackness. Ralsei's voice pierced the darkness, sounding distressed.

"Susie?" he ventured, trying to calm the panic in his voice. That didn't go nearly as well as he'd hoped. His one solace was that their group hadn't been _completely_ separated. Being unable to see anything in the darkness made that a little harder to believe, and he pawed desperately for some kind of reassuring contact. "W-where are you? Are you okay?"

"Cool it," Susie returned, moving her hand from her head to her back. There was an annoying soreness there, too. Nothing Susie hadn't felt before. She tried tamping down the anger in her voice before trusting herself to speak again, reaching her other hand vaguely towards where she'd heard Ralsei's voice. "I'm right here. Ain't dead."

Eventually, Susie's hand found Ralsei's. He jumped at the contact, though quickly moved his fingers around hers like it was instinct. A couple seconds of recognition passed, and Ralsei's breathing slowed from the panicked pace the Playwright first incited. He moved his other hand away from hers, making sure the air was clear before raising his palm upwards, fingers curled like he was holding an invisible ball. Then, with a burst of focus, a red glow _*cracked*_ alight in his hand. Magical fire ignited itself in the Prince's palm, revealing Susie's surprised features in a warm light. Those features morphed into a wide-eyed shock in less than a second. Instantly, Susie ripped her hand out of Ralsei's, stumbling backwards and bumping into some unseen obstruction on the ground.

"What the _HELL_ are you doing!?" she yelled, completely forgoing the restraint in her voice. It was so loud that Ralsei first assumed she was talking to the Playwright instead of him _._ Startled himself, Ralsei lifted his spell away from her further, the other hand raising defensively. Worry rooted itself back into his tone like a parasitic house guest.

"I-I'm sorry!" he apologized. Feeling her grasp had told him she was a safe distance away, though her reaction gave him doubts. There was a reason he'd waited to cast his fire. "I just- it was dark, so we needed something to see…"

Susie huffed back at him, nearly growling. Her eyes were locked onto the small ball of flame like it was a loaded gun. "So your best idea was to torch the shit out of me?"

Ralsei's eyes widened. "W-what? Are you hurt, Susie?"

The girl waited for a few moments before answering. After a painful delay, she scooted another foot or two away from the red firelight, inching into the blackness's depths as she rubbed her scales through the sleeve of her tunic. She swore she could've felt the heat from where she sat. Seeing Ralsei's concern dampened her aggression like a thimble of water on a forest fire. Her snout turned to the side, unfortunately lacking the collar of her jacket to mumble into.

"...'m fine," she eventually told him. Her anger could only fade into an irritated growl at best. For her, that was still plenty aggressive. She raised an accusatory finger at the flame in Ralsei's hand. "But I- _we_ aren't gonna be if you keep that shit out."

Ralsei moved his worried eyes from the lackluster sliver of what he could see of Susie to the burning brightness in his hand. It was smaller than a baseball, purposefully lacking the full strength Ralsei could've given it _because_ he was so afraid of burning Susie by accident. Even the pathetic torch of his spell was too much for her, apparently. Still intimidated by the pure blackness they were previously bathed in, Ralsei hummed.

"But… we _do_ need it," he tried reasoning. His voice was even weaker than the fire. He paused for a second, turning back to Susie's aggravated countenance. Her features were made even more daunting in the crimson light. Ralsei paused for a second, thinking. "Or… can you actually see in the dark?"

Susie's scowl intensified for a second. A pregnant pause of irritated silence passed before she opened her mouth, sounding on the verge of hitting something. "If I say yes, will you quit trying to burn this place down?"

Ralsei expected Susie to be the kind of person who'd welcome the idea. His mouth pulled itself downwards into a pout, and he glanced at the burning in his palm. With reluctance, he discarded some of his willpower, the glow dwindling to barely anything more than a match's worth. Susie disappeared back into the darkness entirely, coercing an upset hum out of Ralsei.

"I can't, um… see you."

A sigh met his complaint. Susie ever-so-slightly inched herself closer to Ralsei, still watching the magical cinders floating from his hand. "Wary" didn't begin to describe her expression. Not willing to risk upsetting his companion at a time like this, Ralsei forced himself to steady his spell, placing a hand on the ground to lift himself up to a standing position. Susie followed a few seconds later.

Both prince and monster glanced around in the dim redness offered, not being able to see much of anything aside from a cracked wooden floor. Dust covered most of the surface, save for the small craters their landing had cleared. Susie lifted her arm in a few quarter-circles, trying to force out the subtle ache with little success. She seemed determined to look anywhere except the one source of light Ralsei held. Though intimidated by the darkness, Ralsei did his best to avoid stepping any closer to Susie for fear of accidentally provoking her.

He took a few careful steps into the darkness, half-motioning for Susie to follow. He didn't have to face her to know how long she hesitated for. The floor creaked underfoot with obvious age. After a few steps, a wooden wall entered Ralsei's vision, just as cracked and warped as the floorboards. His eyes followed the paneling upwards, lifting the edge of his hat with his gaze. Barely, he could make out the ceiling above him. It was lower than most rooms would be. Susie could probably touch it if she reached. Ralsei's eyes moved back down to the wall in front of him, placing a curious hand against it. He gave the wood a few knocks.

"This must be… the front side," he deduced, orienting himself. Susie grunted, rolling her eyes. She could've told as much. The girl watched as Ralsei placed a hand to his chin, thinking. Before she could ask him to cut back on the fire a little further, a distant _*SLAM*_ brought Ralsei out of his contemplation. The sound was like a door several sizes too big had been thrown shut.

"Annnd there goes our exit," Susie groaned. Not that they could've made it back to the amphitheater any time soon, but hearing the door close with such violence didn't improve Susie's mood. Ralsei gasped like he accidentally stepped in a scorpion's nest.

"Kris!" the boy realized. Worry tied his features together, looking to Susie for some kind of assurance. Being reminded of their third didn't give Susie the assurance Ralsei was probably looking for. Still, after her own anxious doubts, she waved a hand in the air.

"Chill," she tried telling Ralsei. In truth, she was worried too, but her plate was too full at the moment for that to be considered. "Kris's probably fine. They're not the one trapped in some asshole's shitty broadway production."

She thought for a moment. "Probably."

Ralsei was hesitant to sound so deceptively confident. Though, he did know that there wasn't much they could do from where they were. Kris was hopefully forming their own plans to get the three of them out of this theatre. All Ralsei could do for now was work on his and Susie's plans, whatever they might've been. After a reluctant sigh, he waited, straining his ears.

"I don't hear him," Ralsei said after some time. No heavy footsteps could be heard, the amphitheater sounding silent on the other side of the stage's wall. The Playwright must've left. Judging by the message he parted with, he was on his way to meet them. Ralsei didn't fancy a reunion any time soon. Under most circumstances, he'd be willing to talk out the issue, but there was too much wrong about the Playwright for Ralsei to consider that sensical. He motioned towards the red-lit wall with his hand.

"It sounds hollow," he told his companion. Susie raised an eyebrow, still glancing at the fire in his palm when he wasn't looking. "Old, too. Maybe we could… break it down?"

The prince eyed Susie expectantly. She leered at him for a couple moments before huffing out a sigh. "You mean _I_ could break it down."

Ralsei gave a sheepish shrug. "You _are_ strong," he reasoned. "Much stronger than, um, me." This time he wasn't explicitly complimenting her, and yet Susie felt semi-flattered regardless. Between the fire Ralsei refused to let go of and the lingering anger of being trapped in the first place, she couldn't find a spot to place that flattered feeling. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she returned, taking a wide berth around Ralsei. Her boots traced the edge of scarlet either person could see, and she gave the wooden wall a few knocks herself. Susie's punched enough holes in walls to recognize the hollow noise. She took a deep breath, tensing her shoulders as a fist raised next to her. Ralsei held his own breath captive, half out of bracing, and half out of just watching Susie. Even in the feeble light of his fire, he could see a dangerous air return to her stance.

"Ah ah ah," a voice suddenly chastised. It was muffled; worse than that, it was familiar. Ralsei and Susie halted entirely as they listened to the Playwright, speaking from somewhere just on the other side of the stage's wall. "I'd advise against that. This is a _very_ expensive stage, you know. Only the best for my actors!"

Ralsei tried swallowing the sudden fear in his throat. The Playwright apparently hadn't gone anywhere, far too quiet for his size. Every word he said was lifted with a pretentious air that grated against Susie's patience. She curled her fingers tighter, tensing her whole arm. "Eat shit," she returned like a serrated dagger.

Like a torpedo, Susie launched herself forwards with barbaric intent, her knuckles colliding with the wood like it was made of styrofoam. Chips and splinters showered to the floor as a fist-sized chunk of the wall was thrown from its confines, landing somewhere in the amphitheater with a _*CLUNK!*_ Ralsei jumped from the impact as a soft orange light spilled in from the hole.

"'Only the best,' huh?" Susie taunted. Talking to the Playwright instead of any semblance of a friend opened the flood of venom and loathing that he had given her in the first place. "Real shitty standards, prick."

Susie raised her fist again, immune to the pain that usually came with punching solid wood and ready for a fist-first confrontation with the Playwright. Ralsei watched nervously, his warning against such a confrontation being preemptively interrupted by a sudden screech several octaves higher than the Playwright's usually muffled voice.

"NO!" he yelled. He sounded furious. Susie paused for only a second, soaking up the Playwright's whining. "NO NO NO! I just got it _perfect_ and you RUINED IT!"

Susie opened her mouth to laugh, then paused. The fur on Ralsei's arm bristled against the inside of his vestment, reflecting the sudden tense dread that flooded the air. Susie eyed the hole she'd just decorated the wall with. The light streaming in from the amphitheater suddenly died out, leaving only the redness of Ralsei's firelight. In the next second, Susie felt a sharp sting cut across her snout, and she stumbled backwards, clutching her face with a furious groan.

"Susie!?" Ralsei called out, taking a step towards her. He raised his firelight, accidentally strengthening the spell in the process of panic. Then he saw a long, curved blade poking out perpendicularly from the hole Susie had punched through, dull and crimson in the light. A few drops of blood dripped from the tip. Susie yelled some directionless obscenity before hearing the Playwright again.

"Wait just a moment," he ventured. His voice had completely lost all of its high-pitched rage, as if Ralsei and Susie just imagined it. "Prince? Is that you?"

Ralsei didn't dare open his mouth in response. Susie shook her head, throwing the few drops of her blood to the ground with disdain. The Playwright continued speaking like they were a disappointed parent. "Susie, you _know_ I gave you this time to rehearse! Don't tell me you still haven't been practicing, dear. Do you require another demonstration?"

Susie halted whatever insult she was going to hurl at the Playwright, her eyes instantly locking onto Ralsei. She lunged wildly at him, grabbing onto his arm before yanking him towards her. Another red blade sliced into the air he'd been occupying a second ago, perfectly between the wooden panels of the wall. A startled yelp fell through Ralsei's lips. He eyed the wicked sharpness of the edge alongside Susie, both of which curling their fingers around the other's out of terrified instinct. Each of the blades shook with an odd strain, like they were at the limit of their reach.

They took a few deep breaths, hand in hand. Susie glanced to Ralsei's grasp, then to the bright light held in his other palm. She blinked a couple times. As quickly as she'd grabbed him, she jerked her hand away, almost tripping over something in the darkness she'd so suddenly stepped into. Lacking her contact was the only thing capable of ripping Ralsei's eyes from the blades poking through the wall. He glanced at her, seeing her stumble away. Before he could either thank her for his safety or question why she'd moved, the Playwright spoke again.

"Ahh, of course!" his muffled voice vibrated through the wood. The blades halted their shaking, freezing in place as the Playwright continued in a hurried pace. "You're the Knight, but you still have that pesky fear! The Knight is brave, unshakeable, immobile! Let's work on that first, shall we?"

"Fuck off!" Susie screamed back, rubbing the wound on her face again. It stung _badly._ While she tried drowning out the pain with rage (not the first attempt in her life), Ralsei looked towards the ground, simultaneously inspecting what Susie had tripped over and lessening the light he could accomplish such an inspection in. The object was a fractured piece of wood, but had a definite shape to it. Something sanded down on purpose rather than due to time.

The Playwright didn't respond with any lecturing or sarcasm, staying quiet. Ralsei and Susie returned their eyes to the lengthy weapons poking through the stage, seeing them retract like snakes back into their respective holes. Light from the amphitheater shone through the hole once again, the orange rays falling near the block of wood Ralsei had seen. Another piece was revealed, having an odd diamond-like resemblance.

Susie felt something latch onto her shoulder. Seeing Ralsei just in front of her confirmed it wasn't him, and she instinctively threw an elbow behind herself. A hard _*thunk*_ resounded from the impact, like she just elbowed a bookshelf. The abrupt grasp loosened just enough for her to step back forwards, whipping around to assess her target. Unfortunately, the light of Ralsei's fire couldn't quite reach her, leaving only the stark blackness in front of her. Susie raised her fists in a vaguely threatening manner. Her eyes glanced behind her for a moment, counting the feet between her and the spell in Ralsei's hand. She would've commented on the panic on his face if she didn't also notice something around _his_ shoulder.

Just as instinctively as before, Susie launched herself towards him, fist outstretched. He nearly ducked _into_ her attack, raising his shoulders as Susie's fist crashed into something behind him. She'd moved too fast to register what she was aiming at. Whatever it was gave another dampened * _THUNK*,_ like Susie had just punched another hole in the wall. Ralsei twisted around to face whatever she'd gone after, lifting his firelight with a curious urgency. All he could immediately notice was some dark figure, almost as black as the unnatural darkness his spell strained to cast out. Then Ralsei's eyes adjusted, and he saw that was the correct complexion of the mannequin. It was decrepit and old, its splintered limbs covered in scratches. The hand of it raised back up into a wooden fist missing two too many fingers.

Susie threw herself into another haymaker before the mannequin could demonstrate whatever violent intent it had. Before Ralsei could say any exclamation of fear, another grasp wrapped itself around his ankle. He looked down to see another weathered mannequin grabbing at him, consisting of nothing but a diamond-shaped head, arm, and torso. Panic launched Ralsei's other foot at the mannequin, and he kicked it away with a surprising amount of strength. Words fell through his lips like a flood.

"There-there has to be some kind of exit!" he told Susie, waving his fire around to pierce more of the darkness. Several more mannequins met his visage, most of which missing a varying number of limbs. A few of their heads were more misshapen than the rest, halfway between a standard skull and the distinct diamond shape others had. The crimson of the light wasn't making them look any less terrifying. Their legs tried carrying them to Ralsei and Susie, some of them having to crawl with butchered stumps of arms instead. Ralsei subconsciously stepped towards Susie, who was too busy shaking the ache out of her knuckles to notice.

Ralsei took a couple brief steps to the side, hoping to see a relatively clearer path as wooden doom approached. Breaking down the stage's wall was too dangerous between the Playwright and the mass of wooden horrors. Traveling inwards would at least put some distance between them and the mannequins. Ralsei reached a hand to Susie, grabbing onto the scales of her wrist. She was pulled with an unexpected pace away from the wall of the stage she'd just assaulted, making her eyes lock onto the blaze Ralsei held in his hand.

"Watch it!" she yelled at him, ripping her arm out of his grasp a second later. Both of them stumbled in their run, Susie passing Ralsei in his moment of confusion. She barely registered the mannequin in front of her before slamming into the wood with a surprised grunt. Ralsei's light caught up a second later, letting her see a jagged edge where the mannequin's hand should've been. It swiped across her shoulder, ripping through the fabric of her tunic and glancing across the girl's scales. With an enraged roar, she thrust her boot into the mannequin, launching it backwards like it was made of cheap plastic. A loud _*CRUNCH_ * resounded as it slammed into the opposite wall, losing its arm in the collision.

Ralsei caught up a second later, placing his free hand into the wall a couple feet from where the mannequin landed. It wasn't moving anymore. The part of the wall Ralsei's hand met was distinctly different from the warped wooden paneling of the rest of the stage, and he searched frantically for some kind of handle. Only a rusty hole was found, distinctly silhouetting the shape of a doorknob. Whatever handle they could've pulled at some point had long since been lost. Ralsei looked over the door for some other kind of solution, hunting the flat surface for any kind of clues.

Susie would've joined him if she wasn't watching for the mannequins' approach. Some of the more put-together ones had closed the distance between her and them only seconds later. One of them raised its foot like it was going to copy Susie's kick, but she caught it in her grasp long before the limb could reach any threatening velocity. Roaring again, Susie yanked its ankle behind her, hurling her other arm into the mannequin's chest like a rocket-powered boulder. The leg was torn free from its confines with a _*SNAP*_ as the mannequin's torso was launched into the darkness once again. Immediately, Susie swung the limp leg she held at another mannequin, cracking across its diamond-skull and sending that one to the ground.

"The hinges!" Susie heard from behind her. She took a step towards Ralsei, avoiding a clumsy swing from a mannequin missing a hole-shaped mass in its abdomen. Susie growled, doing her best to drown out the _*clunks*_ of wood shambling in the darkness. The wood under her fingers nearly cracked from how tightly she held onto her prosthetic of a weapon. A couple more swings were thrown in front of her to keep them at bay.

"Whatever you're gonna do, just do it!" Susie shouted back. The horde of wood only seemed to grow over time, more and more broken pieces of mannequin's shambling and limping into the crimson light of Ralsei's fire. Then, they slowed. The red light glowed brighter behind Susie, and she took a fearful glance over her shoulder. Scarlet changed to violet as the flame in Ralsei's hand grew exponentially, curling harmlessly around his fingers like snakes. Susie's eyes broadened as she watched the inferno expand, violet light quickly morphing into a bright cyan as fire exploded from Ralsei's palm in a concentrated stream of pure heat. The wooden weapon Susie held fell from her fingers to the ground with a couple dull _*thuds*._ Violent tension evaporated in the warm air, and Susie threw her hands to her head, hoping to drown out the burning noise of the inferno. She dropped to the ground, shutting her eyes tight, trying desperately to deny the echo of light burned into her retinas. Still she could see it, the fire etched into her eyelids. A couple whimpers fell through her throat.

Seeing the molten globs of metal drip to the ground, Ralsei immediately moved to the other hinge, looking behind him. The sight of Susie cowering was not one he expected in the slightest. The other mannequins in the blue glow had slowed for a moment, but their splintered and scratched bodies were still advancing on them. One of the crawling mannequins nearly reached Susie, reaching a snapped hand towards her boot. Instantly, Ralsei threw his other hand towards her, streaking a precision bolt of flame right between where the mannequin's eyes would've been. It was thrown backwards from the impact alone, smoke trailing from the glowing crater Ralsei burned into it. Susie didn't react in the slightest, still holding her eyes shut, hands shaking against her head. Whether or not he was finished, Ralsei willed the flames to die down, taking a hurried step towards Susie and placing a warm hand on her wrist. The light returned to the original redness from before. Feeling the contact, Susie opened one eye to Ralsei's visage, confused. Scared. A small wetness glinted light off of her cheeks among the darker red of the cut on her snout.

The mannequins had regained their pace now that Ralsei calmed his spell. Seeing them out of the corner of his eye, he pulled on Susie, doing his best to lift her to a standing position. "Come on!" he urged her, barely able to lift her back up. She followed loosely, not saying a word as she watched Ralsei. A glowing hole had been burned into the wall, about four inches wide at Susie's height. Closer to the ground was the distinct outline of a metal hinge, glowing red-hot. Some of the metal was in the process of dropping onto the floor, smoke trailing from the liquid heat. Ralsei lifted a hoof up to the metal slate, throwing his whole weight into a harsh kick. While the top bent inwards, the bottom of the door didn't want to budge. A dim light streamed in from the crack offered.

Ralsei glanced at Susie, then saw something behind her. Whatever it was made his eyes grow even wider, and he launched his hoof at the doors again in full force. The door budged a couple inches further, but that was enough. The soft metal of the door's hinge bent inwards like a rubber pencil, no longer able to hold the weight of the door as it slowly accelerated towards the ground. It hadn't even landed before Ralsei dashed into the light offered, Susie in tow. Both of them stumbled over the gate into a wide hallway, turning around to watch behind them. Unconsciously, Ralsei's fingers tightened around Susie's, pressing into the girl like he was trying to hug her. The fire in his hand didn't die down.

A mostly intact mannequin followed after them, reaching an outstretched hand. The moment its cracked fingers breached the threshold of the doorway, they immediately went slack. The mannequin didn't slow in the slightest as it continued walking forwards, more and more of its arm losing its animation as it was pushed from the doorway. Its shoulder passed through into the light of the hallway, dropping against its wooden torso before that, too, was moved through the rectangular frame. In the next second, the mannequin dropped to the ground, clattering on top of the door now laid out. It didn't move at all.

Other mannequins didn't follow. They each swiveled the diamonds of their heads at their fallen comrade, then looked back up at Ralsei and Susie. The former of which held onto his flame, while the latter stared back at the mannequins in disbelief. After a handful of tense seconds, one of them fell, dropping from their one good leg into a mess of wooden limbs. Another followed. One by one, each of them lost whatever power had animated them, cascading onto the floor lifelessly. About a dozen seconds passed before the last of the wooden * _clunks*_ echoed from the stage's interior. A dozen more passed as Ralsei and Susie watched tensely.

Eventually, Susie swiveled her eyes to Ralsei, who looked back at her with a similar surprise. Then Susie saw the dwindling red in his other hand, and ripped herself from his grasp to stumble away, nearly shoving him to the ground in the process. Ralsei struggled to regain his balance, then glanced to the spell he still held. A second later, the fire dissipated entirely. Susie blinked a few times, loosening a couple lingering tears from her eyes. They stared at each other, barely making note of the high-ceiling or cracked walls surrounding them. After a painful delay, Susie wiped furiously at her face, turning around. Ralsei would've stepped towards her if a sudden exhaustion hadn't just slammed into him like a train. He half-fell to the ground, stumbling to place his back against the hallway's wall he sat against.

"S-Susie…?" he ventured anyway. Worry creased his eyebrows together. Susie immediately threw out a warning finger behind her.

"Don't," she seethed out. Though it sounded like she wanted to come across as angry, her cracked voice sounded desperate at best. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Ralsei didn't respond, still watching his companion. She eventually heard his silence, turning around to face him. Then, noticing how collapsed he was, body nearly crumpled against the wall, her hardened features relented. She took a few tentative steps towards him, tilting her head. Nothing was said as she lowered herself down to the patch of dusty carpet next to him, taking care to keep about a foot between them. She stretched her leg out, keeping her other knee high to prop an elbow on it. Both of them glanced around, taking in the old hallway they'd found themselves in. Unlike the amphitheater, this place was a lot less subtle in how old it was. Cobwebs were strung in nearly every corner, pale red paint peeling from the walls like spindly fingers. The ceiling was dotted with dim gray lights, casting a neutral glow.

"That… was smart," Susie mumbled. Ralsei lifted his head just a fraction, straining to hear Susie's compliment. There was a shake in her tone. "With the door, I mean. Good idea."

Seconds passed. "T-thank you," Ralsei granted. He felt light-headed. His eyes fell on the mannequin laid out on the door, as immobile as ever. If he was any closer, Ralsei would've kicked it back into the darkness of the stage's interior. He gathered what courage hadn't been shredded by the horde of mannequins, then opened his mouth.

"Susie," Ralsei tried again. His voice was soft, less by timidity and more by concern. "Why didn't you tell me you're afraid of fire?"

Susie groaned, rolling her eyes. Denying it was probably pointless by now. "I _said_ I don't want to talk about it," Susie returned. Even now, she was struggling to put any sort of intimidation in her voice. She looked to the side, half-consciously raising a hand to the warm wetness of her face. The wound had started to scab over, though a couple streaks of blood had begun trailing down the side of her snout. Wiping them away, Susie shook her head. "I'm not… it's stupid. The hell do you care for?"

Calling her defensive might've been as accurate as it was unhelpful. Still, Ralsei had an inkling of why she reacted so aggressively. He waited a few contemplative seconds before responding. "I care about _you,_ Susie," he told her. "You're my friend." He lifted a shaky hand to his companion, placing it on her shoulder. Noticing the rip in her outfit, he put forth a little extra willpower, a yellow glow emanating from his hand. Susie looked back at him, feeling the warm energy from his palm. "And, forgive me for saying, but… it _does_ seem relevant at this point in time."

"Ugh," Susie grunted, pulling her arm away from him. More seconds of tense silence passed. Susie tried mustering what hardened arrogance she could, but those mannequins had used up most of it. Ralsei's obvious concern wasn't helping. Susie eventually opened her mouth, itching close to the wound on her face as she spoke.

"I don't _do_ 'afraid'," she told Ralsei. After taking a shaky breath, she continued, glancing to the carpet she sat on. "It's not me. It's not… supposed to be me. I'm supposed to be all strong n' shit, 'member?"

Ralsei frowned, tilting his head. The brim of his hat tapped against Susie's restored shoulder as an effect. Susie groaned again, shaking her head. "Whatever. That was stupid. Forget about it."

Knowing Ralsei, that wasn't something he was going to do anytime soon. He hummed, frowning for a moment. "That _is_ a little silly," Ralsei said, borderline sarcastic. Susie shot him a venomous look, making his palms raise in defense. "W-what I mean, is— everyone has fears, Susie. Being afraid is an emotion like any other, and you shouldn't feel bad for feeling."

No response was given. Susie kept herself silent, not trusting herself to speak again. Ralsei kept his tired eyes on her, and seeing the red over her snout, he pulled his features into a grimace.

"Here." He reached a gentle hand to Susie's face, touching her chin like it was glass. The contact was so purposefully subtle that she glanced towards him out of curiosity alone. Careful, Ralsei reached his other hand towards her, inching himself closer to move more comfortably. With another burst of willpower, Ralsei moved his hand just over Susie's snout, healing the marred scales in a yellow glow. Susie stared past his hand, not expecting the comfortable warmth.

"I… don't think any less of you, Susie," Ralsei told her. His voice was still soft and quiet, the boy speaking gently. Each word had its own coziness to match his spell. "You're still strong, and you're still my friend. Being afraid isn't going to change that. I promise."

Susie still didn't say anything, staring into the jade of Ralsei's eyes. He smiled warmly at her, eventually finishing the spell and placing his hands against her cheeks. His fur was soft and plush, like a pillow. Comfortable like one, too. Susie felt her body tense up, a warmth still permeating her face despite Ralsei no longer healing her. They each held themselves in silence. Then, Ralsei's body suddenly went slack, hands dropping away from Susie's face without warning.

"Oh, dear…" Ralsei breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Shoved back to reality, Susie blinked, looking over him. He looked like a ragdoll someone tossed against the wall. Susie's eyebrows pushed themselves together in concern, the girl subconsciously moving an inch closer to him.

"You good?" she tried, ignoring how obviously concerned she sounded. Ralsei waved a lethargic hand in the air, shaking his head. The action took far too many seconds to be passed over.

"I'm… I'm fine, Susie," he tried telling her, exhausted. Susie remembered why just as he explained. "I've just… never held magic… for that long."

Susie kept her eyes on him, studying the subtle sway of his chest. The tension in his body evaporated entirely, and his vestment hissed against the wall as he slid to the side away from her. Susie instinctively shot an arm behind him, yanking him back up to a sitting position. Between the rush of her force and complete lack of tension holding his body in place, Ralsei about slammed into Susie's side, being held against her like a stuffed animal. He gave out a slurred thanks, apparently not even noticing. Susie absolutely did.

She watched him for a few moments. Waiting for more of the Playwright's wooden lackeys (or God forbid, the Playwright himself) wasn't the best idea, but neither was running into them with a half-asleep companion. As a result, Susie allowed her friend to rest, adjusting herself into a more battle-ready position to compensate. Unlike him, she still had some violent energy to use. Best let the fight come to her, if need be.

Susie glanced at either end of the hallway, being met with only a couple half-boarded doors at one end and a fork in the road at the other. No sign of any immediate danger. Though, still being in this old theatre wasn't putting Susie at ease any time soon. She'd take the moment while she could. Her eyes moved themselves back to Ralsei's lax position, the boy curling up against her like _she_ was the stuffed animal. It was an odd sensation, though not strictly one she hated.

"Just catch your breath," Susie told him, patting his midriff. He gave out a tired hum of approval in response. For a guy assaulted by wooden nightmares just a minute ago, Ralsei was awfully ready to take a moment and rest. That magic must've really done a number on him. Truth be told, Susie was honestly impressed by the inferno he was capable of spewing. Terrified, sure, but impressed nonetheless. The guy was a helluva lot stronger than his fluffy appearance let on. Susie watched his gentle breathing, seeing the green of his vestment rise and fall with each of his breaths. Then she remembered she was supposed to be keeping a lookout. Shaking her head, she straightened her back against the wall, eyes attentive for any kind of disturbance.

Nothing met her gaze. She looked over the mannequin splayed out on the door Ralsei had kicked open. The hole in the wall was still glowing at the edges, molten metal smoking just past the door frame. The other hinge had cooled somewhat, now in a half-broken "L" shape. It was hard to imagine that the cuddly boy she held against her was the same guy who completely torched solid metal. Something about his incendiary prowess should've made Susie scared, or at least uncomfortable. But as terrifying as that blue inferno had been, she couldn't associate her rooted fear of flame with Ralsei. He was just… she didn't know. He didn't strike her as any sort of pyromaniac. There was more trust than that. Ironically, the fact was warming to her.

Susie wasn't sure when, but she felt her eyes fall on Ralsei once again. It wasn't her fault he was so distracting, what with the softness and all. Susie couldn't pinpoint what about him was suddenly so important to be watched. Though, there were a couple reasons. To make sure he didn't fall asleep, for one. Unsure if he was or wasn't conscious, Susie gave him a gentle shake, and was met with a brisk hum.

"Nothin'," she said quietly, half-joking. "Just seein' if you're awake, is all."

Ralsei hummed again, nodding acknowledgement. Just because he was a living flamethrower didn't mean Susie liked him any less. He was still Ralsei, maybe in some different threads, but small and fluffy nonetheless.

" _Small and fluffy…_ " Susie pondered to herself. Why were _those_ the words she chose to describe him? She could've called him green with about as much accuracy. Or timid. Or gentle. Or kind. Or smart. Or… cute.

Cute.

" _Oh, shit,"_ was Susie's next thought.


End file.
